Enough
by Lilly-Belle
Summary: Isabella has always loved Phineas, Phineas is still wonderful, but oblivious, and Ferb is there to comfort her time and again when his brother shoots her down. Thus is born a love triangle they didn't see coming.
1. Opportunity

_Welcome to my very first fanfiction! It's quite the project, and quite the long read, and quite the journey. I hope you enjoy it!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Phineas and Ferb._

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><p>CHAPTER ONE:<p>

Opportunity

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><p><strong>ISABELLA<strong>

_Today's the day, Isabella. Today he'll finally notice you as more than a friend_.

A girl could always hope. That was my role, forever hopeful. I just knew that one day, after years and years of being the curious girl across the way, I'd come forth into his attention. Phineas would recognize me as more than just his best friend for the past twelve years. It would happen.

It would happen.

"And it will happen today," I promised my mirror, pulling a yellow bow taught in my hair. I smoothed out the front of my new yellow blouse, fluffed my fingers through my dark hair, and spun once.

Yes, today would be the day.

I slid around my mom, nestled at the table with the daily crossword puzzle and a glass of orange juice. As she often did, she'd prepared my toast, and I grabbed it on my way. One kiss, one scratch behind Pinky's ears, and I was on my way to the door with a shout of, "Adios, Mama."

"Que le vaya bien, Mija," she called in farewell, and I closed the door behind me.

I didn't know what it was about waking up today that had invigorated me so. It had been the right side of the bed, I supposed. I'd had a great dream last night—yet another wonderful adventure in Phineasland—and woke up with an incredible amount of courage coursing through my veins.

Birds were chirping, and nothing compared to a warm Danville morning. Even the road seemed to shine on my way over to Phineas and Ferb's house. Maybe it knew good things were going to happen today too.

Not everyone made it these days, of course. Despite being seventeen, Baljeet often took online college courses, and Buford was doing… well, whatever it was Buford did. Some things were better left unknown. We didn't see them on a daily basis, but Phineas, Ferb, and I were as close as ever.

Phineas said we were "getting a head start." Although he'd always been an early riser, there was the rare occasion when it wasn't enough. Today was one of those days, and my feet were lofty with anticipation. I eagerly opened their gate, the motion so committed to memory I could have done it in my sleep, and stepped inside.

My two favorite boys were sitting under the tree, which was a common sight. Less common, however, were the red, pink, and white papers strewn about on the grass.

"Hey, Isabella!" Phineas called automatically, and I smiled.

"Hey, Phineas. Hey, Ferb." I placed my hands behind my back, sauntering up to them. "What'cha doing?"

"We've got big plans," Phineas exclaimed, smiling up at me. "We're making Valentine's Day!"

I blinked. Wait, had I just heard him right? _Valentine's Day_, in the middle of summer? I met Ferb's eyes, silently asking him if it could possibly by true.

Ferb had been my number one wingman for the past seven years, ever since we all tried to circle the globe and got stranded on an island. From that time on, he'd soothed my every down and supported each of my failed attempts to gain Phineas' attention. He'd grown into my closest friend—other than Phineas, of course. But Phineas was a completely different story.

As an answer, he pressed a few buttons on the watch he'd made, and small holographic calendar materialized in the air. It had a date circled: June 15th. It was Mr. and Mrs. Flynn-Fletchers's anniversary.

"Remember Valentine's Day earlier this year?" Phineas began.

I had to hold back my scoff; of course I remembered Valentine's Day. As always, I'd flirted with Phineas, and as always, it went over his head. But I smiled and nodded, reminding myself that it would only take so many sweet smiles before he realized what was right in front of him. I was now one closer. Baby steps. He'd see soon enough.

"Well, Dad was out of town for an antique convention, and Mom didn't get to see him. Ferb and I had the idea to make it up to them by having today be a half-Valentine's Day, half-anniversary mash up. A Valintiversary!"

Music, sweet music to my ears. This was perfect! I knew there had to be a reason for this feeling today. I couldn't waste this opportunity.

I sat down in the grass next to him. "Can I help?"

"Sure!" he exclaimed, standing up. Of course… I sit down next to him, and he stands up. "You and Ferb can start cutting out paper hearts while I handle the flower delivery man. He's due to be here at any minute."

"Oh, okay," I smiled. He returned the gesture before bounding off, but as soon as he was gone, my upturned lips quickly slid into a frown. The years had been kind to both boys, but not to Phineas' cognizance of the opposite sex.

"I keep telling myself his cluelessness is cute," I muttered, shaking my head. I huffily picked up a pair of scissors. "I keep telling myself, but there also comes a point when I just want to take the truth and smack him in the face with it."

Ferb nodded and smiled in a way that said, _That I'd like to see._

"I think today's going to be the day, Ferb. I can feel it. It's the perfect opportunity, and I think I'm ready." I looked up at him, and the edge of his mouth pulled up in his signature smirk.

"You certainly dressed for the occasion," he said with a quiet chuckle.

"Shut up," I laughed, feeling my cheeks heat up in embarrassment. Yes, I did little things to try to get Phineas' attention, like wear his favorite color. My shirt choice was definitely on purpose. And of course Ferb would pick up on that. Really, I doubted there was anything Ferb _didn't_ know. I started cutting a heart out of a red piece of paper. "I just thought he might like it. Bunch a good it's done me so far."

"I think I like your red shirt from earlier this week better, but that's just me," he said, putting down his sixth heart just as I put down my second.

"How do you do that so quickly?"

He winked at me, but remained silent. Oh yeah, _now_ he stopped talking. Devious Brit. After so long—and so many dismal failures on the Phineas Front—Ferb talked to me quite often, but it was only in the rare times like these when we were alone.

"We told Mom to keep her alarm clock off this morning," Phineas explained, returning to the backyard with a giant flower wreath in his arms. It was beautiful, made from roses and lilies woven together in the shape of a heart. "We should have a few hours to get everything set up. We were going to put hearts all over, flowers, maybe a romantic dinner later. They'll love it."

Ah, opportunity. It was knocking. No, it was more than that; it was singing through the air. I held up one of the hearts I'd cut out. "What do you think, Phineas?"

"Looks fine, Isabella," he replied, then hauled off the flower wreath.

Yet another swing and a miss. Isabella: 0, Obliviousness: too many to count.

"It is a little lopsided," Ferb commented, flinging one of his perfectly shaped hearts at me from his stack of finished ones.

"Hey, at least mine have character," I pouted, pointing my scissors at him.

Ferb developed a smirk that said, _Character? Is that what they call it these days?_

"Perfect little British boy," I muttered under my breath, and he laughed again.

Phineas returned, this time carrying a small toolbox. He meandered over to the fence where he'd deposited the wreath and held his hands up like a picture frame. Well, now was as good a time as any.

I stood up and fixed my shirt, whispering, "Wish me luck," to Ferb. His smile and thumbs up was the only response I got, but that was all I needed. I could do this!

I strolled over to Phineas. "Want help hanging the flowers?"

"Sure, that'd be great," he chirped. He picked up the wreath and positioned it in the center of the fence. "Hold it here?" I held it where he asked and he nailed it in. "Thanks."

He smiled his usual genial smile, and was already turning to continue on with his project. That was always the case with him; he poured himself into his wonderful ideas and filled them with life. This time, though, I knew I would be noticed. I wouldn't let him run off to his next task yet.

"Do you have a valentine, Phineas?" I asked, stepping in front of him.

"The real question is, _do I have a Valentiversatine?"_ he laughed. This was yet another Phineasism, redirecting things like this. He didn't do it on purpose necessarily, I knew. I was used to it, and had learned long ago the ways of rolling with the naiveté.

"Well do you have a Valentiversatine, then?" I asked sweetly. "Because I don't."

"Of course I don't," he said. "I've got enough work to do before Mom wakes up. I think it's a little too late to get a whole orchestra or something, but I think I have the time to whip up a nice string quartet."

He stepped around me, and I blinked. Yet another failure. Before I could even begin to think of what to try next, he continued from behind me.

"Oh, and don't worry about not having a Valentiversatine, Isabella," he called, and I brought myself to turn around. He was studying a blueprint by the tree. "I have plenty of tasks to go around. I was thinking of maybe getting an ice sculpture! What do you think? Too much?"

I could practically hear Ferb's cringe from here. It almost made me laugh, but when it came down to it I could only sigh. Phineas being this oblivious when he was ten was cute and a little amusing. Now, when he was close to turning eighteen, it was more than just discouraging; it hurt. Every time something went over his head, I felt like my heart was getting poked with a stick. A sharp one. I was about to answer his ridiculous ice sculpture question, when Ferb intervened.

"You know, there's plenty of room for work and fun, especially after Mum wakes up," he said slowly. "If neither of you have valentines, why don't you be each other's?"

Yes! This was why Ferb was my best friend! He was always there for me right when I needed it! I sprang forward to Phineas, shooting the green-haired boy a thankful look on the way. He'd set that up perfectly!

"Where did that come from, Ferb?" I asked, playing along with a shaky laugh.

"Oh come on, Ferb," Phineas chortled, gathering up all of the paper hearts. "You know Isabella and I are just friends. Best friends, all three of us."

Oh.

Oh, _ouch._

I felt like I'd just fallen through the ground, slipping through the earth and plummeting further from there. Or maybe that was just my spirit. It couldn't have been my heart; that had just been crushed and carried away as little particles in the breeze. I swallowed hard.

Phineas never responded as I would have liked to my attempts at flirting, but this time was different. He had the perfect opportunity to have me, and he outright said we were just friends. He'd put me on the same level as his brother, as if to say _best friends, all three of us, just like siblings_.

And the hardest part was that he didn't even realize it. He didn't realize it, and thus I couldn't even be mad at him. How could you be angry with innocence? It defied the meaning of the word.

I could tell Ferb was looking at me, trying to gage my reaction. Phineas' rejection was just beginning to sink in. I could feel it, small pinpricks up my spine, needling into the base of my neck. Pain ran its fingers through my hair, greeting me coldly.

I needed to get away.

I started towards the house, but Ferb grabbed my wrist on the way. He raised his eyebrow; _you okay?_

I shook my head, tugging my hand out of his grasp. I didn't want to start crying, not here.

When my back was safely turned to both brothers, I called, "I'm going to grab a snack." Despite my efforts to keep my voice calm, it quivered, but Phineas didn't seem to notice.

Story of my life.

I was inside before he had time to respond. Shutting the glass door behind me, I went straight past the kitchen and to the stairs. There was no question, no wavering in my feet. I walked coolly and collectedly right up to the base of the stairs—the final part of my route visible from outside.

I rounded the corner, then sprang up the stairs. I took them two at a time, even though tears blurred my eyes and my body was already shaking with sobs that hadn't breached my mouth yet. They were close, though. I could feel it. Only a few more steps. A few more, and I wouldn't have to hold them in.

I flung myself into Ferb's room and closed the door. I collapsed on his bed, burying my face in one of the pillows.

I… No, there weren't any words.

That was a lie.

Empty. Empty was a word. A very fitting word.

I'd cried here dozens of times. It had been the entire premise for Ferb's friendship with me; he'd comfort me after I messed up with Phineas. It had eventually grown into something more lighthearted over the years. We'd branch out, talking about other things, but it had always been drawn back to Phineas one way or the other.

This was once again centered on Phineas, but this time the center had collapsed. Mine had been punched right out of my, swept from under my feet, burned away into a decrepit nothing. Sure, he'd done stuff like this before, but it was also different_. _Everything felt so… finite.

I'd always feared that Phineas would never see me as more than a friend, but today, he confirmed it. Phineas and I were just friends. He'd made that crystal clear.

I let the tears come.

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><p>Review, please!<p>

_Although I keep a lot of light-hearted PnF elements that make the show so uniquely wonderful, I also have worked to create a plot that is more serious, delving into more character traits, strengths, and flaws. I promise an intriguing ride with plenty of twists and turns, so long as you'll stick with me! Hope to see you soon!_

_~Lilly-Belle_


	2. Different

_Hello again :) Just thought I'd say that I hope you're having a splendiferous day!_

_Enjoy!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Phineas and Ferb._

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><p>CHAPTER TWO:<p>

Different

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><p><strong>FERB<strong>

My brother won the award for Most Oblivious Person for rejecting Isabella yet again. What was sad was that he didn't even realize it. It was the heart of what made this entire situation so difficult; Phineas didn't mean to hurt her, but never failed to do so. In the end, I thought that was perhaps the most painful part for Isabella.

I didn't have to watch her inside to know where she was going, but that didn't stop me. The look in her eyes when I'd grabbed her wrist was one I'd never seen before. Through the years, I'd seen many of Isabella's tears—some of which were big, dramatic cries for a hug, and others well-earned lamentations of the heart—but this was something else entirely. My brother had never so bluntly crushed her before.

I tugged on Phineas' sleeve and made a few gestures; _I'm going to go grab a bite, too._

"Okey dokey," he hummed, going back to his blueprints.

Phineas was the definition of optimist. The sun shined so brightly in his world that any ounce of darkness was eradicated before it could even rear its head. It was part of Isabella's problem; relationships were drama, which meant they skid completely under Phineas' cheery radar.

I slipped inside and shot up the stairs. I stopped at the second door down the hall, which had become my room a few years back. After Candace left for college I'd gotten her old room, though gallons of paint were needed to make it look less like a unicorn's daydream. She used the spare bedroom in the basement when her college was on break. Now the walls were a cool blue, with a simple desk, a reading chair, a bookshelf, and my England-style telephone box.

Along the far wall of the room was my bed, Isabella a trembling heap on its surface. I crossed over to it, sitting along the edge. I reached out and took her shoulder, but she whimpered and buried her face deeper into my pillow.

It always killed me to see her this way. I silently cursed my brother. Phineas was a great guy. Honestly, there was no one I admired more, but he was so remarkably clueless. Time and again, _whoosh, _right over his head.

It was an unfortunate combination, because Isabella was the most hopeless romantic there ever was. No matter how many times she had her heart broken, she ended up here, crying on my bed—but completely and irrevocably in love with him, all the same. She loved him beyond any amount of pain, which she felt far too often. It made my chest ache.

I didn't ask her if she was okay; such a question was completely futile at this point. Instead, I pulled her up into a sitting position and put my arm around her shoulders. This much was familiar, my usual form of comfort. She hid her face in my chest, and her tears quickly soaked through my shirt.

I squeezed her shoulder, inviting her to start talking. Her sniffles were the only answer I got, but I gave her time. When she still gave no indication of opening up, I pulled her face up, forcing her gaze to meet mine. Her big blue eyes were watery, and her nose was red, and I was met once again with the urge to punch my brother for never realizing what he did to her—not that I could ever do that to Phineas. I just wish he could _see._

"It will be alright," I assured her. I knew she wouldn't believe me, but I was at least hoping it would spur a response from her.

"No, Ferb," she sniffed, and I almost smiled. It was best to get Isabella talking. She often could talk herself back into being okay—though I knew this time might require more. "How will it be alright? You saw what happened down there! Once again, it was a perfect opportunity, but did Phineas care? Not at all. Never. He'll _never_ see me as more than his good ol' pal, his swell chum, his—his—"

She let out a sob. A new set of tears spilled down her cheeks, but I used my thumbs to brush them away. Anytime now, I worried she'd recoil, try to hide her face and run away from this discussion. She'd pretend she was fine. She hid how hurt she could feel from her troop and everyone else. I was careful to always give her someone to go to so she didn't bury her turmoil behind a fake smile. At least if she could cry about it then get a hug, her smiles could be genuine for a while.

I'll admit that I always enjoyed my talks with Isabella. I knew that sounded awful, since they only happened when she was hurting. I could go without that part, of course, but I did look forward to our discourse. I hardly talked otherwise, and there was something vitalizing about watching my words make a difference. I always built with my hands, but with Isabella I'd discovered I could fix with my voice.

"This is really it," she cried, and I could see it in her eyes; she was washing her spirit down the drain. I couldn't stand to see it. I had to do something. I had to retrieve it before it all slipped away.

"This is on him, Isabella," I said.

"Not it's not," she laughed sadly. "Phineas is perfect, Ferb. What's his fault in this, being too _innocent? _This—this isn't on him."

I shook my head at her; _that's not it._

"This is on me, Ferb. It's _me. _I'll never be good enough."

"Don't say that," I sighed.

"What can I say then, huh? What can I—What can I _say?_" Her fingers bunched up in the fabric of my pants, on the top of my thigh, and she squeezed her eyes shut. A few more tears fell down her cheeks. "He never notices me, he never realizes any of it, never, and it has to be—has to be because of _me. _It's _my_ fault."

I shook my head even more adamantly.

"It's all me, Ferb," she sobbed. "It's—"

I put my finger over her mouth, my face falling into a glower that said, _I never want to hear those words come out of your mouth again. _

She sniffed. "But—"

"Don't," I said sternly. She seemed surprised at my new tone. I couldn't blame her; I was surprised by it too. "You're amazing, Isabella. If Phineas can't see that, then it's _his_ loss."

It was her turn to shake her head, and I knew she was going to go quiet. If we left it quiet, she'd spiral even more. I couldn't let that happen.

"This isn't on you," I told her. I took a deep breath. "You're intelligent and kind, driven and hardworking. You can do absolutely anything, and the last thing I ever want to see is you selling yourself short. You're wonderful, Isabella. Anyone who cannot see that doesn't deserve your affection, do you understand?"

She blinked at me. Had I talked too much? Maybe I should be quiet now. The amount of defensiveness in my voice was a rarity for me, but I couldn't help it. She looked sad, and I would do anything to change that.

She blinked again, and I could count the droplets in her long lashes. Her eyes always looked brighter when she cried, like her tears washed her irises clean to reveal shade after shade of blue. I found myself swallowing hard. It was never awkward with Isabella and I. We'd spent quite a lot of time together, and shared a lot of personal stuff, but it was never awkward, never.

And yet, I felt awkward. It was quite the surprising revelation. Perhaps I talked too much. That had to be it. Just as I thought it might help if I stopped holding her face, she solved that issue for me; she leaned back and grabbed a tissue from my headboard. At least, for a moment I thought she'd solved that issue, but as soon as the small paper was in hand, she returned her cheek to my palm.

"Feeling talkative today, are we?" she joked, though she still sniffled.

"Is it working?" came my response.

"Maybe a little," she mumbled. She wiped her nose with the tissue. My thumb brushed half a circle along her cheek, just enough to silently let her know that I didn't want to see her cry anymore, and her eyes fell shut again.

"Good," I said, my voice soft. With the hand that had been around her shoulder, I reached behind her for a blanket folded in the upper corner of my bed. With a flick of my wrist, it spread out, and I draped it over her legs. "You know I can't stand it when you're hurting."

With a sigh, she laid back down, her head in my lap this time. It wasn't exactly an uncommon position for us, but it was reserved for only the worst of heartaches, like today. Today, which was different from the other days we'd done this. I swallowed again.

"Why?" she asked, curling up.

Why couldn't I stand it when she was hurting? It was supposed to be an innocent question. It had always had a simple answer, an obvious answer: because she was one of my best friends_. _But as I opened my mouth to say it, something stopped me.

I couldn't stand that Phineas kept breaking her heart. Each time, I'd helped her mend it, only to support her as she went and got it broken again. Over and over, she got hurt, and I hated it. She was my closest friend other than my brother, so of course it was difficult seeing her like this. But that wasn't really what stopped me from speaking.

As much as I liked our conversations, I realized something: I didn't like our routine. In fact, I abhorred it. It went beyond not seeing her get hurt; I hated seeing her falling after my brother, hated seeing him ignore the most amazing girl in the world, hated that the only thing I could do to make it better was to give her a pep talk before sending her after him again.

And I realized all too late that I just crossed into extremely dangerous territory. She adjusted again, and my stomach went all flippety. I wasn't naive like Phineas. I knew exactly what that meant: trouble.

"Ferb?" she sighed into my leg.

"Because you're my best friend," I forced myself to say, because that's what she'd expect. Then, "I love it when you're happy," because I had to say something more.

Isabella was still and quiet for a long time, and I worried I'd crossed some line. But there wasn't even a line to cross, right? No, there wasn't a line to cross. There _couldn't_ be a line to cross. This was Isabella, and Isabella and my brother were meant to be. It was the two of them, and I was their sidekick. That was how the three of us worked. That was how we fit together, and it was far from my place to even consider an ounce of insanity that suggested otherwise.

"Ferb?" she said. I felt a drop of wetness seeping into the fabric of my pants, and I knew she was still crying. I resisted the urge to run my hand through her hair like I usually would, though only out of pure willpower. It was a common thing when she was like this, but this time I couldn't. Not now.

I didn't say anything, which she knew was a response in its own way; it was how I told her to continue.

"Thank you," she whispered. Her finger absently drew patterns on my leg—a star, a frowny face, a heart—and I suddenly felt the need to hit my head against something. What was happening? Did she always do this? Did she always sit this close, or speak so softly? Surely I couldn't just now be noticing all these things; this is what we always did.

But this—_this_—wasn't what we always did. I didn't start overthinking everything. I didn't start feeling anxious.

"Are you feeling up to going back downstairs?" I asked. I had to force my voice to breach the uncertainty filling my throat, to rise up above the sudden pounding of my heart, which demanded my attention right now in ways it shouldn't.

"I think—I think I'm done with Phineas for today. What he said earlier… it's hard to handle, you know?" Her voice quivered, and she held her hand up in a recognizable gesture. I passed her another tissue. The movement between us was mechanical, familiar; she'd cried too many tears over this. "I should probably go home."

I nodded in understanding before remembering she couldn't see me from where she was. I swallowed again.

"Collect yourself," I said. "I'll tell Phineas that something came up, and that your mum needed you. I'll make sure he stays in the backyard so you can slip out the front door."

She nodded, which felt a little odd since her head was in my lap. Before I could think against it, I reached over and took her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. It was a perfectly brotherly gesture, something completely innocent that one best friend would do to comfort the other. It was fine to do. I'd done it a hundred times, I reminded myself. Nothing was different, nothing.

But that was a lie. That was all I could think: that it was a lie. Everything was different even though nothing was. I let go of her hand and shifted out from under her head, replacing my legs with the pillow. I made my way to the door, my back to her so she couldn't see my face.

"Stay as long as you need to," I told her. "Phineas will be plenty distracted." I paused, resting my hand on the doorframe. I focused on the ridges carved into the wood because it was the easiest thing to focus on. "Isabella?"

"Hm?" she hummed behind me, and I licked my lips.

"I'll see you tomorrow, right?"

"Of course," she said. I didn't have to turn around to know that she had smiled. I smiled too, and left the room, heading to the backyard to rejoin my brother.

The rest of the day was pleasant. Mum and Dad loved what we'd done. Breakfast had been served in bed. The flowers were beautiful and hearts were everywhere. Phineas ended up carving an ice sculpture last minute, which had been met well. My sister even invited Jeremy over, enjoying a separate dinner inside, which Phineas threw together for her with ease.

It had been unarguably successful. Phineas was happy, Candace was happy, our parents were happy. Everyone was happy—except the girl from across the way.

But I knew tomorrow would be a better day. It always was. I went to sleep with that thought every night: that every new day would be better. It was what drove my brother and I to do so many things.

Tonight, however, was a little different. I should have expected that, all things considered. Try as I might to avoid it, all I could think about was how much my pillow smelled like lilies, lemonade, and summer. All I could think was how much it smelled like Isabella.

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><p><em>Review, please!<em>

_I forgot to say this last time, and I largely hope that it'd be axiomatic for a site like this, but no flames, please. I love reviews. I love hearing what you guys are thinking. I believe that every writer has something to teach and every writer has something to learn, no matter what skill level. Thus, I wholeheartedly accept constructive criticism, but outright flaming I'd prefer to avoid ^.^_

_Also, I'm all about connections. Have any questions? I'll gladly PM you and answer them. Have any ideas for stories you'd like to see? Want advice or a Beta? I'm pretty darn open and have a pretty keen eye for grammar (most the time, I'd like to think). Heaven knows I'm willing to give my opinion, but I promise I'm a very polite person :)_

_~Lilly-Belle_


	3. Toxic

_Now things are really going to get interesting… Enjoy!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Phineas and Ferb._

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><p>CHAPTER THREE:<p>

Toxic

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><p><strong>ISABELLA<strong>

Day one after what I'd mentally begun calling _The Valintiversary Disaster_ had been the hardest. I got to listen to Phineas talk about how successful and romantic the day had been. It raked against my confidence and reeked with wasted potential, but Ferb quickly intervened by placing a stack of blank blueprints and a pencil in front of his brother.

Three minutes passed, and sure enough, we all got what we expected:

"I know what we're going to do today!" Phineas exclaimed. He presented his plans for laser tag in a spherical balloon maze and dashed off to the garage to grab tools.

Ferb knew me well enough to sense that I wanted to leave yesterday behind me, and wisely didn't ask how I was doing. Phineas kept being his jovial self as he came back with a toolbox, and everything played out as any day had for the past decade: we planned, we questioned where Perry was, we built, and of course we had a great time. We worked our best to chase after Phineas' motto: _carpe diem._

It was harder to try to seize the day after Phineas' unwitting rejection, but I still tried my best. I embraced the week with as much optimism as possible. We had a day of extreme go-karting, which Buford and Baljeet showed up for. They came the next day too, and it felt like we were all ten again. We had a day of board games on the moon. The next day, we built robot doppelgangers of our group. The next, we solved a 1940s murder mystery put on for us by Ferb, and I got my P.I. patch. It had been fun, and my distress started to dwindle.

The week after that, Phineas and Ferb agreed to help me with my Senior Fireside Girl Community Service Project patch. At this point in our troop career, it was one of the few we had left, but it was by far the most serious. We'd have to do the project and then wait for approval from the Fireside Girl administration before we could even consider the patch obtained. That didn't detract from the fun, though.

Phineas called everybody to arms: Buford and Baljeet, along with Ginger, Adyson, Milly, Holly, Katie, and Gretchen from Troop 46231. We all met in Danville Park, where we'd be replanting trees, weeding, and repainting old benches. It wasn't anything too extravagant—at least not by Phineas and Ferb's standards—but it just felt good to have the whole gang together.

"Okay, everybody, split into groups," Adyson called out, her hands placed authoritatively on her hips.

"I've calculated that groups of two to three will be the most effective," Gretchen chimed in from behind her clipboard, her hand moving to push her glasses back up her nose.

"Good idea!" Ginger exclaimed, springing up next to Baljeet out of nowhere. "I'll go with Baljeet!" The boy's cheeks turned red, but he sure as heck didn't protest as she dragged him away.

Everyone else split up pretty quickly, too, leaving me with Phineas and Ferb. Really, there wouldn't have been any other outcome; everyone knew how close we were. We got sapling duty, which definitely wasn't the worst thing in the world.

Between the three of us, the day passed by quickly. We had a lot of fun, telling stories and cracking jokes whenever Buford complained so loudly that we could hear him from halfway across the park.

"And then Django realized that someone had taken his white paint," Phineas was saying. I stuck my spade into the dirt. "But to this day we still have no clue how the mayonnaise got there."

I nodded, twisting my spade and digging it in a little deeper.

"Although, it's just another reason why I stipulate that the biggest messes are also the most delicious," he continued. "Thankfully, they had enough scraps in their recycling bin for me to whip together a mayonnaise-fueled paint gun that—Isabella? Isabella?"

I jolted, looking up to meet Phineas' eyes. His eyebrows were furrowed, and I realized I had been pretty clearly zoning out of the conversation. I couldn't help it, though; despite the week that had passed, I was still caught up on what he'd said: _You know Isabella and I are just friends. _Time had dulled the ache, but the words themselves still tramped around in my brain.

I hadn't realized the extent to which I had mutilated the ground underneath me. Oops. I quickly pulled the tool from the dirt and gave my favorite redhead an encouraging smile, which was enough for him. He didn't dwell on my spade's mutiny or my sullen demeanor. It was one of the best things about Phineas: his spirit soared above it all.

"I just hope the paint and mayo didn't get switched," he started again like there'd never been an issue in the first place. Of course, for him there hadn't. I couldn't fault him for that. "That would make for one disgusting sandwich."

"Toxic," Ferb agreed, tossing some dirt at me. It was an odd point for him to join the conversation. He had already been watching me, probably gaging my solemnity. I knew he'd made the connection of what was on my mind. Seeing the reproachful glint in his eyes, I realized why he had spoken.

_Toxic._ That was his discreet Ferb-way of telling me to snap out of my surly stupor. I knew he was right. Here it was, a beautiful summer day—the summer before senior year. We were doing something good for the community, completing one of the last patches I'd ever have, and I had my two best friends beside me. I shouldn't dwell in such toxic emotions.

I nodded at Ferb slightly. The corner of my mouth twitched up, just enough to let him know I got his message. He was absolutely right. Today was good. I needed to suck it up.

And it wasn't even all that difficult to find a way to be cheerful again. I'd be lying if I said there wasn't a small part of me that felt _The Valintiversary Disaster_ wasn't as finite and damaging as I'd suspected. I mean, there was still hope, right? There had to be.

After all, who was I if not the girl from across the way, the girl who was in love with Phineas Flynn? I couldn't give up all my hope and forget just who I was. I was Isabella Garcia-Shapiro, and I was in love with Phineas. He would see that soon enough. He would see, and he would realize how ridiculous he'd been for never seeing. He would sweep me off my feet. It would happen.

Across a small stone path, we saw Baljeet and Ginger doing some weeding. Even from here, we could hear Ginger giggling at some lame joke Baljeet had made. They looked like they were having a great time.

Ginger and Baljeet's situation was at once similar and entirely different from mine. They were one of those _oh-for-crying-out-loud-would-you-just-get-together-already! _relationships—which was just as everyone saw Phineas and I. That being said, for Ginger it was infinitely easier. Everyone knew Baljeet liked her too. Most importantly, _Baljeet_ knew he liked her too. That went a long way. Meanwhile, here was Phineas, completely oblivious that _girls_ even existed.

Huh.

That thought was actually comforting. Because it wasn't that Phineas didn't like me, he was just oblivious to dating and romance in general. He wasn't aware yet, and once it dawned on him that romance existed, everything would be different. There would be a him and I, because he would finally understand. I felt that bloom within me, a small piece of wood to cling to in my recent flood of emotional turmoil.

"Wow," Phineas remarked as we turned to plant a new sprout.

"What?" I asked, digging into the soil. I looked up at him through my eyelashes, batting them for good measure, but he was looking across the way.

"Baljeet and Ginger…" he said. He finally looked back, only to place a seedling into the ground. "Something's sure going on between the two of them, don't you think?"

"What do you mean?" He couldn't possibly be contradicting everything I just thought about him, could he? Phineas was oblivious to romance. Period.

"Well he clearly likes her, and I think she likes him back," he replied. "I'm surprised they're not dating, or something."

And there went my entire theory, just like that. My new piece of wood burned up, and—Ferb's advice be damned—I felt that uneasy tide of emotion pulling at me again. I could only stare at Phineas. It took him a few seconds to notice, and when he looked up at me, he swiped his hand across his face.

"Something up?" he asked, and there was no presumption in his eyes. There was nothing but good intention. It almost made this worse. His nose was now streaked with dirt in the silliest way, and it made my chest hurt so much, because it only reminded me that I should never, ever be mad at him.

"So you can tell she likes him?" I asked.

"Well, yeah," he said without a hitch. "It's pretty obvious, don't you think?"

Obvious. I hadn't been aware Phineas and that word had ever been acquainted before. What would he think if he knew I suddenly felt so bitter?

"Who do you think Katie likes?" I asked coolly, and he looked surprised.

"I'm not entirely sure," he answered, standing up and prepping to move to our next planting spot. "If I had to guess, I'd say Django."

"You're right." I didn't bother hiding my shock. Ferb and I picked up our gardening tools and followed.

Along the way, Ferb nudged me with his elbow, and I easily understood the question in his eyes; _where are you going with this?_

I shrugged. Honestly, I didn't know. But I was desperate. I needed to understand what Phineas was thinking, what it meant for me. I figured something—_anything—_was worth the try.

"Who do you think Adyson likes?" I asked as we dropped to the ground.

Phineas laughed. "I really hope this isn't a trick question, Isabella. I'm pretty sure Adyson likes her boyfriend."

"No, no," I said quickly. "No trick questions."

We finished planting this sapling, Ferb worriedly glancing my way every minute or so. He seemed to be telling me not to press this too far, warning me that I may not want to ask questions if I wasn't prepared to know the answer.

As always, he was right, but I was also tired of this hope-then-no-hope, giddy-then-crushed rollercoaster. If I had such a strange and sudden opportunity, I wanted to take it.

"Hey Phineas," I began slowly, "who do you think _I_ like?" Ferb made a choking sound in the back of his throat; my boldness must have surprised him just as much as it surprised myself.

I didn't know what I expected from Phineas. Maybe he'd freeze cold and look at me like a deer stuck in headlights. Maybe he'd suddenly become clumsy, and stutter out an awkward response after being put on the spot. Maybe he'd do something—just _one_ thing—to reveal that he suspected I liked him.

Instead, he gave me his usual, brilliant smile.

"You're a hard one, Isabella," he said. "I can't really tell with you. I would've assumed you didn't like anybody."

Ferb let out a snort of disbelief. He moved to cradle his head in his hand, before remembering it was covered in dirt. He stopped short, and because I needed something funny to focus on, I smacked the back of his wrist, making his hand shoot forward and cake his forehead in dirt.

Ferb shot me a look that said, _oh gee, thanks_, and I soaked up every ounce of it. I'd needed it; the humor was a good distraction from the sting of Phineas' words, and it drew the redhead's attention away from me so I could have just a second without composure.

Phineas laughed, tossing a little more dirt at Ferb, and while he did, I squeezed my eyes shut. One deep breath. I opened them again. Ferb was watching me closely, but I turned back to Phineas, a smile stretched across my cheeks.

"You really can't tell if I like anybody?" I asked as sweetly as I could manage. I refrained from batting my eyelashes this time, though. That was more than I could muster with the dull throb in my chest.

"I don't know," Phineas laughed, and despite everything, he must have been able to tell I was disappointed, because he waved his hand around in mock contemplation. "Let's go with Ferb."

From the corner of my eye, I saw Ferb's hand tighten on his spade. He promptly looked away. He was probably barely managing to hold back a laugh.

I, on the other hand, didn't find Phineas' joke funny. A dozen responses flittered through my mind. Most of them would hurt. Some hurtful to Phineas. Some hurtful to me. But Phineas' response had already nipped evilly at veins, so why cause more pain? I bit my tongue.

Phineas continued on like nothing happened, launching into the topic of tomorrow's plans. I always liked listening to Phineas' ideas because he was so passionate and filled with curiosity.

But that was the problem.

I liked Phineas because he was helpful, confident, creative, fun, smart, brave, carefree, and so many great things. He was filled with child-like wonder. But those things I loved him for were the ones that kept him from me. Kept him from ever realizing how I felt. Kept him from _truly_ noticing me.

_His spirit soared above it all. _He would never see me—never _love_ me—while he ruled the sky. His passions, creativity, and childish delight would always bring him absolutely everywhere but to me. I was on earth.

I hadn't felt hopelessness quite like I did in this second, crashing down on me like waves. It swept up into my mind, pressing what I knew up into jagged peaks, before ripping away.

Phineas would never be aware of how I felt about him. That was just who he was.

I nodded in agreement when Phineas asked me a question—never mind what it was—and he continued on his tangent. He only slowed as other people started converging on our location. Ferb shot me a worried look, but I managed to put on a smile. It wasn't genuine, but I could at least do convincing.

"I think," a paint-covered Adyson announced with a grin, "that we just earned our Community Service Project patch!"

Everyone cheered, except Buford, of course. He had his arms crossed and a grumpy expression on his face. All at once, I was envious of him—of his freedom to be loud and obnoxious, and let everyone know just how unsatisfied he was at any given moment. Instead, I clapped my hands and cheered along, trying to look as happy as can be.

From across the group, Ginger shot me a questioning glance, but I sent her a look that said, _later. _Other than Ferb, Ginger was the best at reading me. She was my closest girlfriend, and I was sure I'd eventually end up talking to her about this. But not now.

Right now I needed—I couldn't even say. And that was perhaps worst of all. I was Isabella Garcia-Shapiro: troop leader, time traveler, space explorer! I didn't _do_ lost.

The group started down the path, toward a pavilion that was much more open for socializing, and I followed along mechanically. At some point along the way, I felt a hand squeeze my shoulder. I nodded almost imperceptibly, but Ferb would get my message; I was fine.

_I was fine._

I could contain it. I could control my heartache, and everything would be fine again tomorrow.

Everything would be fine again tomorrow. Everything.

"I think this was a day well seized," Phineas told the group. "_Carpe diem:_ check!" He moved his finger as if checking an invisible to-do list box in the air.

Phineas made a good point. _Carpe diem. _Seize the day. Not tomorrow. Not some day. _Today._

I didn't know how many more _tomorrows_ I could wait for. My hope for _some day _was riddled with holes after too many blows. There was only one thing I was certain of: I couldn't take any more _todays._

* * *

><p><em>RR, please!_

_Reviews are wonderful hugs._

_… Which I suppose might be a little weird, since I don't know you._

_Hi, I'm Lilly. Growing up my mom always called me Lilly-Belle, hence my username. Nice to meet you._

_Well, it'd still be a little weird, but at least I tried._

_~Lilly-Belle_


	4. Noticed

_Today's word of the day: panjandrum. That works._

_I hope you enjoy this chapter!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Phineas and Ferb._

* * *

><p>CHAPTER FOUR:<p>

Noticed

* * *

><p><strong>FERB<strong>

Today had been like watching a car crash. I could see it in Isabella's eyes: hope. It truly was the most dangerous thing in the world.

One of the most admirable things about Isabella was how much she allowed herself to _feel. _She gave herself entirely, and when she felt something, she felt it with her entire soul. It was admirable, yes, but it was also trouble. It opened the door to so much hurt—something else she felt rather dramatically.

She was exceptionally resilient; I didn't know how many girls would bounce back after having their heart broken so many times. But perhaps it was naïve to call that resiliency. Some might call it stupidity; others downright stubbornness. Still, I felt inclined to disagree with such labels. Isabella had too big of a heart for those to be true. She was stubborn, yes. Probably the most stubborn person I knew—except maybe Buford, but he could also be a bit of a pushover when it came down to it.

When I saw Isabella give into hope today, I knew we were all in for a difficult ride.

Almost immediately, I had been proven right. Phineas opened his mouth and inserted that ruddy foot of his. No matter how much she tried to hide behind that painfully transparent smile, one look at Isabella and the devastation was clear. More than clear: it was vivid.

And yet, my brother still missed it.

The socializing at the park dragged on, but I knew there wasn't anything I could do. Trying to rush Phineas would have been unnatural, bordering on downright suspicious, and I didn't want to bring any more attention to Isabella's unstable state. It was just going to be one of those long days.

It was nearing sundown by the time the group started dissolving. Isabella had thoroughly impressed and surprised me; she remained largely collected the entire time—on the outside at least. I was certain I couldn't even begin to fathom the roiling mess underneath.

I drove Phineas and Isabella home after everyone said their goodbyes at the park. We had unfortunately been one of the last to leave, since it was inevitably in my brother's nature to try to wring every last drop out of a summer day.

I was pleased when we made it to the car that Phineas was at least mindful enough of the opposite sex to offer Isabella the front seat, but I found the way she accepted to be troublesome. Now that there were less people around, I could see her façade starting to fade, and her reactions were all wrong. On any normal day, a chivalrous act from Phineas, no matter how small, would make her insanely happy. Now she just accepted with a quiet thank you and moved on. I could hardly stand to see it.

We made it back to our house. Phineas jetted into the garage, only to reappear ten seconds later with blueprint paper in his hands. From there he went straight to the backyard, sat down under the tree and brandished his pencil eagerly.

"It's never too late to get a head start on tomorrow's planning," he enthused, motioning for Isabella and I to sit next to him. "This one's going to be great, and I've been itching to invent all day!"

I wouldn't sit until Isabella did. It was an old-fashioned notion, but one that my strict English grandmother drilled into me since I was very young. Isabella didn't make to sit, though. She wrung the bottom of her shirt in her hands and looked anywhere but at my brother or me.

"Actually, Phineas… my mom wanted me to call her," she said, her voice unnaturally even.

"Alright," Phineas replied, smiling at her before turning back to his plans. "You won't miss much. I haven't even finished contemplating what I want it to look like yet, let alone started drawing the model."

She looked up at the sky—a vast beauty alight with magnificent pieces of color—and I was positive I knew what she was thinking. She was wondering how, with so much space, it could be pressing against her shoulders. Then she turned on her heel and went inside. From the other side of the glass she shot me a sad look before heading towards the stairs.

I knew that look. It meant that she needed me. Whether from Isabella or not, I could never resist responding to a look like that from a friend. At the very least, that's what I told myself as I watched her disappear.

I waited a minute before announcing, "I'm going to run to the lou."

"Yeah, sure." Phineas didn't bother looking up from his blueprints this time, which was fine by me. I entered the house at a normal pace, then sped straight up to my room.

I expected Isabella to be dolefully crying on my bed, my pillow clutched in her arms and her hair sticking in stringy streamers to her wet face as she lamented Phineas' massive obliviousness. That was how it had been consistently for the past seven years she'd come to me about this. She would sit there or lie there, and we worked through it until she had cried herself back to normalcy. It was a reinvigorating experience for both of us, a strange moment of cathartic release, even in two vastly different ways.

This wasn't what I got.

Isabella was standing near the window, close enough where she could see Phineas, but not so close that he could see her from down below. Upon rare occasion, she would be standing as I entered, and usually only because she'd needed a hug. The standing didn't bother me. What her face revealed did.

Her cheeks were dry. They were completely dry, and she was expressionless. She stared dully out the window, and that simple fact was more telling then any sob or sniffle.

"Isabella?" I was almost too afraid to ask. I'd never seen her like this. It was so eerie and jarring that I couldn't even move more than a few steps beyond my closed door.

She was silent for an entire minute, but I couldn't bring myself to move. I just waited.

"Ferb, what's wrong with me?" she asked, not even turning around. Her demeanor was entirely new territory; she looked so… defeated. That was more disturbing than any amount of tears. I honestly thought I would never see Isabella defeated. That was a word that simply could never define her. I didn't think she was aware of that anymore.

I could tell she didn't want a response, so I kept quiet.

"He can see other people's affections. Ginger likes Baljeet. Katie liked Django. He nailed it. He wasn't oblivious when it came to them. But he can't tell with me." She ran a hand over her eyes, though out of tiredness or habit to wipe away the tears that should have been there, I didn't know. "He pretty much said he couldn't see me liking anybody. Not even _not_ him, but not _anybody _at all. So what's—what's _wrong_ with me?"

She finally turned toward me, though her eyes never once reached mine. They were focused on the floor, not even bothering to ask for help this time. I could read into that; it meant she didn't think she _could _be helped this time. And the idea that that had somehow nestled into her mind was enough to unlock my joints.

I walked over to her and put my hands on her upper arms. She still wouldn't look at me, but I wouldn't force her. Instead I pulled her into a hug—but even this was a mere shadow of what it had always been. She was almost limp, almost empty. She had always been such an affectionate person, and yet she didn't return the embrace.

After thirty seconds I pulled back, tugging her with me to the edge of the bed. She dropped on it without much care and immediately buried her face in her hands. She gave no indication that she had more to say, so I decided it was my turn to talk. Something had to be done, because this was absolutely inacceptable.

I took her hands and removed them from her face, but immediately let go; I still had to be careful with how I handled being around her right now. Which of course shouldn't be a thing. And yet somehow was. Maybe. Bloody hell, it was all so confusing.

"Isabella Garcia-Shapiro, absolutely _nothing_ is wrong with you."

"Sure," she muttered with a surprising amount of bitterness.

"You're the most amazing person I know." I felt the urge to say, _besides my brother_, but I just managed to hold that in. She wouldn't benefit from that in this moment.

"I've heard that before. From Mom, from you…" Her hands clenched into fists on her lap, her head shaking back and forth. "Hell, I've even heard it from _Phineas_. It just doesn't feel… true."

She finally looked up and met my eyes for the first time. The blue was exceptionally piercing despite that new emotion—that grave sense of _defeat_. I could feel my heart pounding now, which only served to remind me of all the things wrong with this entire situation.

This conversation felt like a tightrope—like I was walking a fine and dangerous line. Looking at her right now, I wanted to deny it, to deny everything. I was too bloody introspective for my own good, though, because I was hyper aware that denying what had been happening in my head over the past week or so would have been an outright lie.

I had feelings for her, for Isabella. I wasn't sure quite how long they had been brewing or to what extent they existed, but they were there. She blinked at me sadly, and god, I knew they were there…

Which only made all of this more problematic. I thought _Sad Isabella_ was difficult, but _Defeated Isabella_ was unequivocally painful. I had the overwhelming urge to make this right, to make her feel better, no matter what, which was of course tricky if I was trying to inhibit affection. And therein lied the tightrope feeling: how did I walk the line between comforting her and exposing the insanity that had become my mind?

She let out a shaky breath and took my hand. I had never before realized how calloused her dainty hands were, and when her fingers twisted with mine, any thoughts of how I _should_ approach comforting her went out the window. I would make her feel better.

"It is true," I told her. "You're brave, and so much stronger than you think. I don't think any other girl could have had such grace and authority in all Phineas and I have dragged you through: haunted houses, wild machines, circling the globe, time travel, space missions."

Isabella laughed a little at this, though not with much humor.

"And you're beautiful," I said. It was undeniably true, with her dark hair and those big blue eyes, but I couldn't help but feel even more insane for telling her. At the same time, I didn't believe Phineas had ever told her that, and she needed to know. She needed to be told that from more than just her mother or her troop. "Absolutely beautiful, Isabella."

She shook her head doubtfully. "Stop it, Ferb. I know that's not—"

"There's no point in denying it, Isabella. Your cuteness literally saved the world."

She scoffed. "When I was _ten_."

"Yes," I sighed, "but you're so much more than that now. You are a confident young woman who could save the whole universe if Meap ever showed back up. Really, Isabella, you've got the best sense of humor, the biggest heart, and—"

"Ferb, _stop_," she cried. Finally, a single tear trickled down her cheek, and I wiped it away out of habit with the hand that wasn't holding hers. She looked up at me thankfully, and I felt that familiar pang in my stomach.

_She loves Phineas! _I reminded myself. I couldn't allow for such intimacy anymore, now matter how things had been in the past. My hand instantly recoiled, but Isabella caught my wrist. Her eyes flashed with confusion and pain, and—damn it—I found myself moving it to her cheek again.

"Don't you get it, Ferb?" she sniffled, the tears coming more readily. "None of that matters. A bunch of good that is if Phineas can't see past his nose. I'm not noticed _that way_. I'll never—never be good enough to have those feelings returned!"

I shook my head, my eyes saying, _it's impossible _not_ to notice you_.

"Yeah right," she cried. "You're just saying that. It's not—"

"I'm not," I cut her off. God, how could she think I was making that up? "The way you work with the Fireside Girls. The way you volunteer. The way you clasp your hands behind your back when you try to flirt, or that ridiculous way you crinkle your nose when you're really concentrating."

"Ferb, I—"

"The way you play with your clothes when you're nervous or upset, and your hair when you're embarrassed. The quirky way you keep the different kinds of food on your plate even, so it comes down to one last bite of everything, saving your favorite for last. You're truly impossible not to notice, Isabella. You're infectious."

"Ferb—" she tried again, her voice fainter, but I shook my head at her.

"You're so infectious that you got _me_ to ramble. Me_,_ _rambling_, Isabella." She obviously found that just as strange and perplexing as I did, because she let out a weak laugh. Feeling heartened by this, I added, "Naturally, I'll deny it if you ever tell anyone."

There was a dim smile on her lips, but they quivered as she said, "But… but, Ferb, I—"

"No 'buts,' Isabella," I sighed, trying to smile reassuringly. I'm sure it came out entirely different than what I intended, but I didn't care right now. I licked my lips, uncertain of what more I could say, and from my mouth came, "You shine so brightly on everyone else that you forget to keep a little light for yourself, to remember how ruddy amazing you are."

Isabella stared at me in stunned silence. Her long-lashed eyes were wide, and her lips trembled just slightly. At first, I was worried she was going to cry more, but no tears came. She gaped at me like she couldn't believe any of what I'd just said, but I spoke nothing but the truth. I wished she could see that; I wished she could see she deserved more than this heartache she was always left with.

She blinked, but her eyes never once wavered from mine. There was a flurry of emotions there—pain and confusion, like before, but also some new ones. Surprise. A tired hopefulness. Maybe something else, something I couldn't identify.

I took a deep breath; there was no point in censoring myself now.

"_Never_ say that you're not good enough to be loved. If the boy that made you feel that were anyone but my brother, I swear they'd be dead by now, because that's the _farthest_ thing from the truth. You're frustratingly easy to love."

She didn't speak, and I'd just about exhausted my word allowance for the next three years combined. We sat in silence, but I never lost her gaze. We'd had hundreds of talks before, many of them deep and rich with emotion, but this time was different. Something had been morphed, some bolt in our bridge loosened or lost. My mind was going fuzzy, and I couldn't look away.

Whatever was happening, I could see she was experiencing it too. There was a strange pull about her, like a magnet, and I didn't even realize how close we'd gotten. Our foreheads touched, and I could only think, _should I do this? Is this what she wants?_ But we were already this far, and she hadn't pulled away yet… Bloody hell, I couldn't go back now.

I slid my hand farther back along her cheek and pulled her forward the rest of the way. My lips pressed against hers. I expected her to push me away, to run from the room and avoid me for life; I wasn't Phineas, after all. But Isabella did none of those things. It only took a second of my lips on hers before she kissed me back with fervor.

One of my hands fell to her waist, the other inching farther into ebony tresses, feeling the thick strands run through my fingers. In return, she worked a hand into my hair, her fingers grazing the base of my neck and sending a chill down my spine. Her other hand was pressed against my chest, leisurely making its way up to my shoulder.

She gave a little whimper of satisfaction, slowly moving closer. The distance between us decreased with every movement of our lips, but it still wasn't enough. I pulled her in, quickly extinguishing the space between us until she was practically on my lap, but neither of us complained.

Her fingers danced along my scalp, sending electric shocks into my brain. Part of it screamed, _what are you doing? This is _Isabella! _Isabella Garcia-Shapiro!_ I couldn't bring myself care right now, though. I could only marvel at how remarkable this felt.

Another small whimper escaped the girl in my arms. She pulled against me harder, but there was no more distance to be closed. It was maddening, opening a whole new world of sensation and want.

But then Phineas' laughter resounded from downstairs, and we snapped apart. Isabella practically fell backwards off of me, scurrying as far away as the bed permitted. Her eyes were wide, startled and disbelieving, and I was confident this expression matched my own perfectly. She met my gaze once, quickly, before taking a sudden interest in the floor. The hem of her shirt was now in her hands, which she wrung nervously.

Neither of us moved.

I couldn't say how much time passed—it was all at once too quick and too slow—before she met my eyes. For once, hers were unreadable. This was bad. This was so deviously amazing, and yet so freaking _bad_.

Then we heard Phineas' laugher again. She stood up, and half a second later she flung herself to the door. I followed after as she flew down the stairs, but that was as far as I went. Phineas was by the front door, laughing and talking on the house phone… which meant he was right in the middle of Isabella's escape route.

"Isabella?" Phineas asked, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion, but she didn't stop. She rushed right past him, her head down. Without a word, she opened the door and was gone, the sound of it slamming trailing behind her.

Oh god.

That just happened.

* * *

><p><em>RR please!_

_Even if you're new to the story, and have a ton of chapters to go, I'd still like to know what you think of some of this earlier stuff too! Response is key to growth. It is also the key to warm, fuzzy, smiley feels! Both are good :)_

_~Lilly-Belle_


	5. Possibility

_I think my word of the day shall be quotidian. Or anachronistic. Perhaps amalgamation. No… I'll go with panjandrum._

_Today's word of the day: panjandrum. That works._

_Disclaimer: I do not own Phineas and Ferb._

* * *

><p>CHAPTER FIVE:<p>

Possibility

**ISABELLA**

My heart nearly jumped out of my throat when I saw Phineas blocking the door. He was talking on the phone, which explained the laughter. He was smiling, completely oblivious to the fact that he broke my heart today.

He broke my heart today.

He broke my heart _today._

Which meant I sure as hell shouldn't have—

No, I couldn't get into this here. Not right now. Not as I was flying down the stairs. This was a time for fleeing, not contemplation.

In my peripherals I saw Phineas look up when I came down the stairs, but I kept my eyes locked on the door. I was still upset with him, and even if I wasn't, how could I look at him after—

No. _No, no, no. _Not until I was outside. Not until I was alone.

"Isabella?" came his voice, shocked by my terseness. I was almost surprised that he sounded surprised; it meant he understood something was off, and after today, I wasn't sure if he'd catch on to such emotions. But less than a second after he said my name, my hand was already on the handle.

_Open door. Step out. Shut door. _Oops, more like _slam_ _door,_ but I was too preoccupied with other things, and I couldn't bother with adding that to my list. The jarring sound of it closing was a harsh slap from reality, and my brain almost had a forced reboot right then and there. My legs almost froze. I almost stopped.

The scary possibility that either brother could open that door and come after me before I was safely harbored in my home was the only thing that pushed me forward, but I couldn't hold back the waves of jumbled thoughts now pulsing freely.

Ferb had—and I had—and _we _had…

_What just happened?_

Because… my memory banks were trying to convince me that I just _kissed_ Ferb. _I _just kissed Ferb. I just kissed _Ferb. _And yet, no matter how many times I restated that in my head, trying it on in all the different colors, it couldn't quite get it to make sense. Couldn't quite be sure that it happened.

Because it was Ferb. Ferb, my relationship confidant, not my relationship partner. Ferb, who went out of his way to be the best wingman. _Ferb, _who… who wasn't Phineas.

Although, if I was going to go there, I had to at least be fair about it.

Because he was also Ferb, the best listener and my personal advisor. Ferb, the secretly witty smart ass if one got him talking enough. Ferb, my best friend in the entire world, other than his brother. He had to be the coolest person on the planet.

I stopped on the sidewalk, just in front of my house.

I'd never thought too much about it before, but I suppose my favorite things about Ferb were the aspects that made him _different _than Phineas, like his thoughtfulness.

His attention… was remarkable. He'd noticed me. He'd noticed everything about me—things I hadn't even realized I did. Who'd have thought… I never would have known…

And it was true that he meant the world to me—but that didn't mean that I should _kiss_ him.

It was sinking in now.

Yes, it really had happened. Ferb had kissed me. We were talking, and somehow it had ended up… _there._

Oh god, where did that leave us? Even more pressing, where did we _go_ from here? It was Ferb. I kissed Ferb. This… was not okay. This was not supposed to happen.

I ran my hands over my face. This was never supposed to happen. It was never part of the plan.

Fingers clamped down on my sides and a loud voice exclaimed, "Hey, Isabella!"

I shrieked and jumped almost a foot in the air, whipping my unexpected prankster in the face with my hair with how quickly I spun around.

"Ginger!" I exhaled, my hand flying to my chest. "Ginger, what the—don't scare me like that!"

My friend burst into a fit of laughter, wrapping her arms around her sides and bending over.

"Oh my god, Isabella," she wheezed, "you should have seen your face!"

I could only stare at her until her mirth subsided. It was slow to come, and she hammed it up by dramatically wiping her eyes, but once she moved past her oh-so-hilarious joke, she seemed to gage my mood.

Well, at least I hoped she could gage my mood, but that was easier said than done. I had no clue what my mood _should_ be right now, let alone what it _was_. She at least caught on to my pensiveness.

"What's up?" she asked, her tone still light, but distinctly more cautious.

I opened my mouth, but not even a simple, _not much, _would slip out. My mind was blank; the mental reboot I'd forced back on the Flynn-Fletcher's front porch caught up to me in my momentary distraction, and I couldn't say a thing. I'm sure I must have looked like a gaping fish.

But that's what girlfriends were for, I suppose.

"Okay, what happened?" she asked, putting her hands on my shoulders. Her voice took on that certain quality—that, _oh sweetheart, _tenor that was either the most welcome hug, or the worst slap in the face. I was still trying to decide how I was going to take it when she pulled me to my front door.

"Do I need to start simpler?" she chuckled. "How about we go with why you were just standing outside of your house, hm?"

This freed my voice, but not to answer her. Instead, it brought up a different question.

"It's my house, Ginger. I think the more pressing question is why _you're_ here. What are you doing?"

"You were upset earlier," she shrugged. "I figured Phineas must have said something again, but you looked a little… _worse_ for wear this time. I just thought I'd come check up on you. Maybe stay over, or something."

She let herself into my house, tossing her shoes to the side and stretching while she waited for me to follow. With most people, I'd be peeved if they invited themselves over, let themselves into my house, and declared they'd most likely just stay the night, but it was Ginger. By now, such reasons for being peeved were far behind us.

I followed her inside. What would I even tell her? How could I even start? I didn't think I could do this.

"Oh boy," Ginger sighed, studying my face. "It must have been one hell of a—"

"I—it—nothing happened!" I stuttered. Well… _that_ wasn't suspicious.

Honestly, I didn't know why I'd even tried. I knew it wouldn't work. Lying wasn't really doable with Ginger; we had our own language, both verbal and non—even if I didn't exactly want that right now. Something in my voice must have cued her into the fact that this was more than just another Phineasism.

"I swear, Isabella, if you don't start talking, I just might burst!" She started bouncing up and down on her toes, and I held my hands up to calm her.

"Ginger, I—"

"Isa, is that you?" came my mom's voice from the kitchen. "I'm cooking dinner, Mija. Who's with you?"

"Si, Mama, it's me," I called back, kicking my shoes off. "And Ginger's here. She's going to be staying over, if that's okay."

"Si, si, si, por supuesto," she replied, poking her head around the corner of the hall. "You're always welcome, Ginger. It's good to see you again. My, how you've grown. It seems just yesterday you—"

"Hi, Mrs. Garcia-Shapiro," Ginger laughed, and my mom meandered back around the corner again. That was probably one of the biggest indicators or her presence around here; she knew how to cut my mom off before she really got going.

"Well?" She turned toward me, and I knew she wouldn't let this go. It was inevitable.

"Not here," I sighed in defeat, gesturing toward the stairs. She got my message, and we made our way to my room. We flopped down on my bed, Ginger automatically sprawling out and stretching like a cat.

"So… spill," she demanded. "What happened between you and Phineas?"

"Nothing much happened with Phineas," I ventured. This much would be easy; it was common. "I tried to get him to notice me earlier today, but just as always, he was the same oblivious Phineas. He wasn't even fazed."

She nodded, but remained largely unmoved. "So… what?"

"What?"

"Well, that's been a pretty common theme. What's the big deal this time?"

"It… it was worse than usual. He basically cemented his obliviousness for life." I fidgeted with my hands awkwardly. "And—and… he pretty much said he couldn't see me romantically with _anybody._"

Ginger's face soured at this. "Oh, Iz, that sucks." She pulled me into a hug, which felt pretty good right about now. When she pulled back, she studied my face again, and I didn't know what she saw, but it made her head lilt to the side quizzically. "And…"

I blinked at her. "_And?"_

"There's more," she decided, a devious smirk spreading across her lips. "There's more that you haven't told me yet. Spill! What happened between you two?"

She grabbed my arm, shaking it in that giddy way she had. I couldn't help but laugh, though not necessarily because I was amused. Ginger had this energy that kept things lighthearted. Even in situations as sticky as mine right now, her spunk and enthusiasm eased my mind.

This felt like one of those band aid moments. Or maybe I could ease around the issue? Though most likely futile, the latter seemed the most favorable option right now.

"We made it back to their house, and I went to Ferb's room because I couldn't keep my stupid tears in check. Like always, Ferb and I talked about it."

Yeah. That worked. Completely truthful.

I slipped off my bed and moved to examine the bookshelves in the corner of my room. I thought that maybe if I could feign interest in them, it would put an end to _Girl Talk. _Such hopefulness was not rewarded; the following silence was long and heavy. I didn't know if I wanted to know what she was thinking, but as always, Ginger didn't give me an option.

"You're holding back on me," she accused.

And there it was; there was the futility I had been waiting for. It had been worth the try.

"He kissed me," I declared, not taking my eyes off my books.

I enjoyed one last moment of silence.

"_What?!_" Ginger shrieked, and an instant later she was beside me. Her hands clamped down on my shoulders. She whipped me around, forcing me to face her and look her in the eye. "Wait, wait, wait. You mean, Phineas, he—"

I slapped my hand over her mouth.

"Weren't you listening before? I said nothing happened with Phineas."

She stared at me, her eyes wide and uncomprehending. Although the answer was right there, it was preposterous, and I could see her brain rejecting the task of making the connection. I couldn't blame her; I never thought this would have been a possibility either.

She blinked again. "So… Phineas didn't kiss you…"

I shook my head.

"But you were kissed…"

I nodded once.

"Which means…

I nodded again, and she did a double take.

"_Ferb?!" _I was about to nod yet again, but she cut it off. "Ok, I need every last detail, and I need it _right now._"

I took a shaky breath. "Well, I went to his room, like I always do. He came in to comfort me, like he always does. It was completely normal for us, right?"

I paused in case she wanted to comment, but she anxiously motioned for me to go on.

"But… something was different this time. He started talking—I mean, really, _really _talking—about all these things he thought about me. What he had noticed about me. I think he first meant it to be a sort of pep talk, but it felt more like… more of a confession."

"Yeah? And?" Ginger prompted, bouncing up and down on her toes.

"And then he—he kissed me. I didn't even realize it, but somehow we ended up… _right there,_ and, after a second, he pulled me to him, and… we kissed."

Ginger stared at me like I'd just shoved an atom bomb in her ear.

"Oh god," I inhaled. "What are you thinking?"

"What am I thinking?" Ginger breathed, starting to shake me now. "What am I _thinking? _Ferb Fletcher _kissed _you! I think I want to know details! How did it happen? Does Phineas know? What did you say afterwards?"

"No, no, Phineas doesn't know," I spewed quickly, stepping out of her grasp and moving my hands to cover my cheeks. They were burning under my fingertips. "Of course Phineas doesn't know! God, that—that would be disastrous!"

"Does that mean you didn't like it?"

"Does that mean—?" I paused, her question taking me by surprise. My fingers then ghosted from my cheeks to my lips. "To… to be honest, Ginge', I've been so caught up on the fact that it _happened_ that I can't even begin to tell you how it felt."

"Well?"

I stared at her, and she rolled her eyes.

"How did it feel, Isabella?"

_How did it feel? _

Well… I definitely hadn't resisted. He had initiated it, slipping his hand to the base of my cheek and pulling me to him, but… I most certainly hadn't felt the need to protest. Not in the slightest.

"It felt…" My mind groped for a word, but in the end I could only settle for a goofy smile. Which of course was probably the most embarrassing response I could give.

"Oh my god!" Ginger squealed, and I tried not to cringe. I was over _Girl Talk_ by now; it had just drifted into the realm of mortifying. "You kissed him back!"

"I didn't say that," I said defensively.

"You didn't have to!" she laughed, taking my hand and pulling me back to my bad. We climbed on its surface, and Ginger batted her eyelashes over big, pleading eyes. "Will you please tell me what's going through your head? _Please?_"

I sighed.

"I… I did kiss him back," I conceded, burying my face in my hands. "But in my defense, I have absolutely no clue what I was doing. My mind went all fuzzy and tingly, and it's confusing. His hand was in my hair, the other on my waist. All those things he'd said were stuck in my head, and I… it just happened. I didn't even realize I was on his lap before—"

"On his _lap_?" she gasped, but I kept going like she hadn't interrupted; anything less would have made this already embarrassing situation downright unbearable.

"I hadn't realized it," I reiterated, "before we heard Phineas downstairs. We broke apart, and there was a moment of silence. Neither of us said a word, but then Phineas laughed again, and I ran. Right down the stairs, past Phineas, out the door, and here. You know the rest."

I was prepared for the worst now, but Ginger surprised me. A giant grin spread across her face.

"Oh Isabella, that's so romantic!" she cooed, and I gawked at her.

"What? It's not romantic. It can't _possibly_ be romantic!"

"It's _so_ romantic," she laughed, watching me like she couldn't believe I'd think otherwise.

"But it's—it's Ferb. It's Ferb, so it can't be romantic."

"Why not?" she scoffed. _Why not? _I didn't even know why she bothered asking that. It was obvious!

"Because… it's all backwards!" I stood up, flinging my arms out in in exasperation. "I'm in love with _Phineas_, not Ferb. Phineas!"

"You sure?" Ginger asked, and her tone made me uneasy. I didn't like all the silent conclusions she was coming to in that head of hers…

"Of course," I replied, but when I said it I felt my tongue burn guiltily. Why? Why would that make me uncomfortable? I shook it off. "I've always loved Phineas. One kiss from some other boy doesn't just change that."

"It wasn't just some other boy, Iz. Ferb's the world to you. Although I don't really know him like you do, I can tell you think he's the cat's pajamas."

"What?"

"The cat's pajamas. The bee's knees. The best thing since the invention of peanut butter. And apparently he thinks the same about you, so I don't understand why you're so surprised."

"But—"

"I also don't know why you're being so defensive. You're not _married _to Phineas. You obviously enjoyed recent activities with Ferb, so… why is it an issue?"

"Because... because…" But even as I said it, I felt the question in my voice. I ran my fingers through my hair, and it brought back Ferb's touches from earlier. "Because it's not Phineas?"

That answer was enough. It had to be. It… it was! But still…

I'd never considered…

And I _couldn't _consider_,_ because I was meant to be with Phineas. _Phineas and I_. That was the plan, that was always the plan.

"Ginger, you can't tell anyone. This—nothing's going to come of this. It was an accident… I'm sure—I'm sure he didn't even mean to… Just don't tell anyone, okay?"

My best friend hesitated, but ultimately nodded. I couldn't move past this if more people found out about it.

But… I still couldn't get Ferb's words out of my head. I tried to. I tried to forget them and move on. I tried to brush this off. I had to get that ridiculous pounding in my chest under control. I had to tell it to shut up long enough to remind it that this _wasn't possible!_

_Ferb. _It was impossible.

But a small part of me laughed defiantly.

After all, if there was one thing I'd learned after so long with my boys, absolutely anything was possible.

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><p><em>RR please!_

_Even if you're new to the story, and have a ton of chapters to go, I'd still like to know what you think of some of this earlier stuff too! Response is key to growth. It is also the key to warm, fuzzy, smiley feels! Both are good :)_

_~Lilly-Belle_


	6. Screwed

_Hope you enjoy the chapter!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Phineas and Ferb._

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><p>CHAPTER SIX:<p>

Screwed

**FERB**

I had expected Isabella to be stunned by what happened between us. I had expected her confusion, her lack of an answer, and subsequent flight down the stairs and out the door. None of that surprised me. What did was the look on my brother's face after she left.

That was the worst part.

"What the—" Phineas breathed into the phone, having just experienced the _whoosh_ of air as Isabella jetted past him. "Hey, Dad, I have to go… Yeah, I'll tell Mom you'll be a little late. Okay… bye."

He returned the phone to a small table near the bottom of the stairs, his hand moving to rub the back of his neck. His eyes were trained on the back of the door.

"Was that Isabella leaving?" Mum called from the kitchen. She appeared in the hall, drying a pan with a towel.

"Yeah," Phineas muttered in confusion.

"That's funny," she hummed. "I didn't get to say goodbye."

"Yeah, none of us did." My brother shook his head before looking back at our mother. "I'm glad I'm not the only one who thought it was weird."

Ah, yes. That was Phineas for you. My brother was the definition of endearing, but he was indisputably oblivious, especially when it came to emotional issues. Sure, he could tell when my dad had a rough day at work or whatnot, but anything with romance just zipped straight over his head. It would almost be comedic… if not for the front row seat I got to see what it did to Isabella.

Isabella. _Isabella_, whom I had just kissed…

"Oh, hey, Ferb," Phineas called like he'd just noticed me here for the first time. With a few bounds, he was up the steps and next to me. "I think something was wrong with Isabella."

I nodded in concurrence, but couldn't help but give him a, _no duh, _glance.

"Well, I was just making sure," he laughed good-naturedly, gesturing for me to follow him to his room. I obliged.

When we made it to his door, he spoke again. "You think I should go check up on her? She left so quickly."

I shook my head and held my hands up in a placating gesture that said, _let her be for the day._

"Are you sure?"

I nodded, then tapped my watch.

"Why would I need to give her time? I mean, if something's bothering her, why wouldn't she want her friends with her?"

_Friends._ That was the problem, but he'd never been able to see it. No, so soon after he hurt her feelings today—and… all that had happened upstairs just now—Phineas going over there half-cocked for some _friendly_ support would probably result in Isabella tackling him. I didn't want to wake up to find the news heading, _Local genius strangled with Fireside Girl sash._

As amusing as that had the potential for being… I preferred my little brother in one piece and breathing.

I put my hand on his shoulder, giving him a meaningful look that insisted he listen to me—er, so to speak.

"Well… if you say so," he sighed. My brother was an incurable optimist; just like that, the issue was behind him. "I suppose we can finish our blueprints!"

I smirked. He was nothing if not consistent.

"Come on, Ferb."

He sat down at his desk, spreading out his blueprints from earlier. I sat down on the floor, my back against the wooden drawers by his legs. Soon after, the room was filled with the scratching of a pencil flying across thick paper, and my brother began a long spiel on our mechanical options for whatever gizmo he'd decided we would tackle tomorrow.

I settled back, my mind lulling into the ordinary. This was normal—Phineas excitedly chattering about his next invention, and me standing by until he wanted me to build it. It was common, mindless… easy to get distracted from.

I realized the dangers of this, but before I had the time to intervene, I'd already slipped into thoughts about the girl across the way. My lips still tingled, remnants of what happened lingering on them in the form of that faint peppermint of her chapstick. It was the only thing I had that confirmed that it had actually happened. I didn't think I'd believe it otherwise.

God, she probably hated me now. There she was, lamenting how much she wanted my brother but could never seem to get him, needing nothing but a friend… and there I'd gone, talking her ear off and taking things too far.

I hadn't meant to say all of that about her—not going into the situation, at least. After I had, I should have left it where it was, with embarrassed silence after my rambling. It would have been a little awkward, but she'd know I cared without… overplaying my hand like I had.

Instead I'd gone and kissed her.

I'd _kissed _her. My best friend since we were kids.

Who was in love with my brother.

Since we were kids.

…

Well. Where did we go from here?

"Ferb, did you hear me?"

My attention snapped back to Phineas, and I stared at him blankly.

"I take that as a no," he laughed. "I asked what kind of screw you're thinking."

What kind of screws? I honestly hadn't been paying attention…

"Hex cap," I tried, and my brother looked at me doubtfully. I must have guessed incorrectly.

"Hex cap? Those are probably a little too big, don't you think?"

"Stripper bolt, then." I took a crack in the dark, and Phineas lifted his pencil to his mouth.

"A good ol' shoulder screw, eh?" His face lit up. "That'll fix the joint issue I was facing and guide the stripper plate for the metal forming die set!"

I smirked. Nailed it. Or… screwed it? Oh, puns. That one didn't work.

"You're a genius, Ferb!" he exclaimed after a minute.

Buford always liked to tease that Phineas suffered from Mental Butterfly Disorder—all over the place, and easy to please. It made being around him day in and out exceptionally agreeable, though. His attitude was infectious.

He went back to his blueprints, scribbling like mad. Probably adding the new screw specifications.

"I think Isabella will love this," he commented, and I mentally cringed.

Right back to that topic again… it really was inescapable.

I couldn't deny it; I had feelings for her. Somehow, in this crazy thing we called life, I'd developed feelings for Isabella Garcia-Shapiro. I really loved shooting myself in the foot, didn't I…

Years ago I'd had it bad for Vanessa Doofenshmirtz. Then she'd gone off to college, and I'd had to accept the reality that that wasn't ever going to happen. Five years was just too hard to bridge when I had her in my life, and now she was engaged to some acrobat or something.

So what happened? What did I decide to do?

I developed feelings for the girl who had been helplessly in love with my brother since the moment she first laid eyes on him. Clearly I had issues—some hopelessness complex where I'd get caught in a rut. Well, it was of my own doing, so it was more like throwing myself in a ditch.

I'd kissed my best friend. I'd pulled her to me, and I'd kissed her.

But… she'd kissed me back.

Huh.

I hadn't really dwelt on that notion before. It was true; she'd kissed me back. More than that, we'd somehow crashed through all _Common Sense and Decency _barriers and made out on my bed. That idea gave me vertigo.

It wasn't just a peck. It wasn't just a quick kiss, followed by an awkward, _oops, that wasn't meant to happen_, or _how the heck did we accidentally get there? _I'd kissed her, and she'd kissed me back, and we'd both closed that distance.

But what did that even mean?

No matter how much I'd loved it, I knew Isabella didn't have feelings for me. It was part of what made what I did so stupid in the first place! _Us_ wasn't an option. It had never been an option—not with the overbearing fact that she was in love with my brother hanging over every conversation, permeating every interaction.

I was setting myself up for failure. The most dismal, burning failure—because now I stood to lose one of the most important people in my life. I was thoroughly screwed.

Phineas moved from his chair, standing up and stretching with a groan.

"What's with you today?" he said through a yawn, and I blinked at him. "You're so quiet."

I gave him a look that said, _really?_

"Yeah, yeah, I know you're always quiet. I just meant… you seem more pensive. That's all."

I shrugged, standing up too.

"I bet you didn't even hear the question I just asked you, did you?"

Question? What question? God, now I was becoming like my brother—oblivious to what was going on around me.

He laughed and shook his head. "I said, what happened to your hair?"

What… happened to…

I crossed over to his door, desperate to get a look in the mirror latched on the back. I couldn't believe what I saw. My green tufts were crazily disheveled, sticking up in odd ways after Isabella had her way with it.

_Oh god… _if Mum or Dad had seen me before I'd realized what this looked like… that would have been disastrous! They'd have been able to deduce why it was like that in an instant. What would I have possibly have told them? _Hey, my hair's like this because I kissed Isabella on my bed… and pulled her onto my lap… and let her run her hands through my hair…_

Her ghost touch burned along my neck, but I mentally slapped myself, demanding I focus on the matter at hand. I'd never realized what a threat a girl could be one's attention span.

But thankfully this wasn't coming from my parents. It was coming from Phineas. Wonderfully oblivious Phineas.

"I thought I'd try out a new hair style," I commented, careful to give him no reason to question.

He nodded like this should have been obvious. "So that's what took you so long in the bathroom, huh?" he laughed, eyeing my messy crop.

_Bathroom?_ Oh yes… my excuse for running after Isabella in the first place. I couldn't keep back my smile. My brother was just so… so uniquely _Phineas._

I nodded, and when I smiled, I got a taste of the peppermint again.

Yes, I was probably screwed. In fact, that was all but likely. But I figured I could at least try.

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><p><em>RR, please!_

_Reviews are wonderful things ^.^_

_Like this show we all love. Wonderful. Absolutely wonderful._

_~Lilly-Belle_


	7. Analyze

_Here it is! The debut of Phineas' POV! Enjoy!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Phineas and Ferb._

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><p>CHAPTER SEVEN:<p>

Analyze

**PHINEAS**

My alarm clock read 2:26 a.m., but I couldn't sleep.

It was odd; usually I slept well. Afterall, what was summer without early mornings and days filled to the brim with fun? I couldn't get that without a good night's sleep. My body was so used to my schedule that I could even wake up right before my alarm clock.

Of course, I had a few rare exceptions; sometimes my mind would be bursting with inspiration for a new creation—something that defied my ability to seize the day alone and demanded my night too—that simply couldn't be ignored. But I knew what that felt like.

When I had to create, it was like an itch nipping at the base of my brain. I could get a piece of paper, draw a few things and run a few formulas, then fall asleep in a matter of ten minutes, itch relieved and rest found.

Tonight was different, and I couldn't pin down why. It was weird. Granted, it was probably weird that it was weird, and thus, when looked at as a whole, was actually pretty amusing. Most people fretted over issues at night, and I suppose that it was so troubling for me made me a bit of an oddball.

Regardless, I didn't handle unease well. Now wasn't the time to invent; it might disturb Mom and Dad. Ferb was sleeping, and Candace was in the basement. Everything I would usually do if something was bothering me wasn't an option right now, so I figured that left me with the task of trying to figure out what was up on my own.

Well, with all the afore mentioned sources indisposed, I resulted to the one thing I could do right now: analyze.

Today had been pretty great. We hadn't built anything, but doing that community service project with Isabella had been pretty fun too. The three of us had planted over a hundred new trees, and the park was really going to look fantastic once they grew.

By the time we got home we were all pretty much covered in dirt, head to toe. Mom hadn't been too pleased by that fact, but we soothed her with the argument that we got dirty for a good cause.

I'd had the idea to build a mind-reading machine, and Ferb and Isabella seemed on board. Like it always did, my mind jumped into schematics. I saw the wiring and hidden mechanisms for my plans as if they were the connections in my own brain. As soon as we made it home, I was eager to jot it down on paper.

Isabella quickly excused herself, saying she needed to call her mom. I thought that was odd, since she would be heading home soon anyway, but who was I to question her mother's schedule.

In front of me, the blueprint sheet was a blank canvas, just waiting to be filled with Big Ideas to seize the day. At some point into drawing my Thought Machine—did I want it to be a scanner? A hat? Something out of the ordinary, like a mind-reading bowtie?—Ferb disappeared to the bathroom, and I was suddenly alone outside.

I stayed there for a few minutes, just enjoying the feeling of the outdoors, but it was quickly losing its pragmatism. The sun was setting, and the air started to gain that evening nip. I would do better inside.

I went through the kitchen, stopping to help my mom with the dishes. She washed and I dried, and she told me about a new meal she was learning to make in her cooking class. We'd almost finished when the phone rang, and I ran to grab it since her hands were all soapy.

Dad had called to say he got in a new antique in the shop just a short while ago, and would be late. My dad could be so… eclectic and odd, spending hours researching and ogling over an old chair or even a hairbrush, but I never ceased to admire his curious nature. He'd cracked a few of his dorky history jokes over the phone. Dad was just… Dad—wonderful and weird.

Then Isabella had run down the stairs, rushed right by me, and left without a word. I'd almost thought she was going out of her way not to look at me, but that couldn't have been right. I mean, it was _Isabella. _Even weirder was the she almost seemed… upset?

Little alarm bells started going off in my head; I'd found the source of my troubles.

It was safe to assume she'd been distraught. The question was, _why? _What would upset her so much that she would storm out of here that quickly? Maybe her Mom gave her bad news or said something that hurt her feelings while they were talking on the phone.

But now I had questions, so many questions, and they were whirring around my brain. If there was one thing I could never stand for, it was questions left unanswered. No wonder I couldn't sleep! Not to mention that the questions were regarding my best friend being upset about something. I wanted to make sure she was okay.

What could I do about that at 2:30 in the morning? I suppose I could always ask her. Then maybe I could cheer her up! But that wasn't possible, was it? Ferb said I should leave her alone for the day… that's what I should do.

I should just close my eyes, go to sleep, and start tomorrow fresh. That's what I should do. I should do that._ So do it, Phineas! _I forced my eyes closed.

I tossed once. Then I tossed again. I could practically here a _tick tock_ coming from the clock on my nightstand, and my clock was digital. Digital, for crying out loud! I peeked through one of my eyes at its glowing face. 2:31. _Screw it!_

I swung my legs out of bed and ran my hands over my face. I got up, slid a pair of pajama pants over my boxers, and tossed on a hoodie that was draped over my chair.

Halfway down, the steps creaked under my feet. I froze on the spot, glancing at the top of the stairs nervously. Even though I was just going to make sure Isabella was alright, I was still leaving the house at night. There were certain things I loved breaking, like world records or the Laws of Nature… but my parents' rules wasn't one of them.

Nothing would happen just standing here, though, and my curiosity trumped all else. I crept down the rest of the stairs, past the front door, through the kitchen, and out the back door. Its sliding pane was much quieter than any other options, and a few seconds later I was out the gate and heading across the street.

The ground was cool under my bare feet, but with my pants and hoodie I didn't mind too much. I strolled up Isabella's front steps and was about to ring the doorbell, when I remembered what time it was. Do I… just knock? Everyone would be asleep.

And would Isabella's mom be alright with me being here? I'm sure she wouldn't mind too much; Izzy slept over at our house hundreds of times. But showing up on her doorstep in the a.m. hours was a little different, I suppose. No, I shouldn't knock.

I took a few steps back, looking up at the window I knew led to her room. Then I glanced at the small trail of rocks lining the cement to her door. Well, it wouldn't be some ingenious contraption or filled with finesse, but hey, the classics were such for a reason.

I grabbed the tiniest pebble I could find in the dim glow of her porch light and tossed it up to her window. But... it had been so tiny that I couldn't even hear it hit. _Come on, Flynn, you'll have to do better than that._

I bent back down, looking for one a little larger, when the sound of a window opening caught me off guard. I looked up and was surprised to see Isabella's head pop out of it. She squinted her eyes in the darkness, scanning my face. Recognition played across her features.

"Phineas?" she half-whispered, half-called. "Phineas, what are you doing here?"

Wasn't it obvious? Instead of responding, I waved her down.

"What?"

"You should come down," I said, my voice taking on that same airy, yelling quality that hers did.

"I'm not sure if that's a good idea," she responded. That threw me for a loop; the last thing I expected her to do was protest. I mean, I couldn't really blame her, because it was unreasonably late, but something about this seemed… off. It didn't seem like her to protest.

"Come on, Isabella, I wanted to talk to you," I called back up.

She was silent for a few seconds, clearly debating, but she finally nodded her head. "Backyard," she whispered, and disappeared.

I nodded, forgetting she couldn't see me anymore, and headed around to the side of her house. I unlatched her gate as quietly as possible, and slipped inside.

I always thought her backyard was really fun, since it had a pool, but it made me a little sad, too. There were no trees back here—nowhere to sit with a sibling and ponder the day's potential. Not that Isabella had any siblings… but hey, I guess that was what Ferb and I were for. A girl as amazing as her would never be lonely so long as I had something to say about it.

Tonight only half the moon was in the sky, but it was enough to cast a dull light over the surface of the water. A few days ago we'd gone up there to see if board games were more fun on the moon—they definitely were more challenging, what with the lack of gravity and all—but we hadn't made it into deeper space in a while. It made me wonder how Meap was doing. And our milkshake bar…

Quicker than I expected, I heard her back door slide open, then closed, and I turned around. I guess I shouldn't have been surprised that she was in her pajamas, but it was weird to see her dressed… like _this._

She was in light blue shorts—tiny ones that she most definitely didn't wear out in public—and a dark gray tank top. Her hair was piled up in a sloppy bun on the top of her head, which was something else I never got to see.

"Phineas, what are you doing here?" she practically hissed. Was I that out of line for coming over here this late? I thought most teenagers stayed up late, and that _I _was the weird one for getting up so early. Maybe I was wrong… but I came over here with a purpose, and I would fulfill it.

I ignored her question and pulled her into a hug. She went still in my arms, and I pulled back, my hands on her shoulders.

I wanted to ask her a ton of questions, like what her mom had said on the phone, why she stormed out so quickly, and why she slammed the door, but none of that came out. Instead, I won the _Off Topic _award.

"You left without saying goodbye."

She yawned. "You came over here at this hour because I didn't say goodbye?"

"You _never_ leave without saying goodbye," I defended. Then I realized this was a good segue. "Is everything alright?"

"I—why… wouldn't they be?" she faltered, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet.

"I don't know. I just thought…" I wracked my brain. What had I thought? "I was just wondering if something was wrong. You left in such a hurry and I'm pretty sure Ginger's cousins could hear you slam the door all the way in Japan. I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

She blinked at me. "I didn't realize you'd even notice."

"You're my best friend. I hope I'd be able to notice when you're upset." Her expression changed to one of skepticism, and maybe… maybe a little incredulity. I didn't understand it, so I chose to keep going. "I couldn't sleep. It was driving me crazy. I'm sorry if I woke you up, but I—"

"Oh, I was awake," she sighed, looking down at her toes.

"Couldn't sleep either?"

She shook her head.

"You, uh…" I gulped. "You want to… talk about it? Or… something?"

Needed me to build a hovercraft? Golden. Wanted bungee shoes that can doubled as a backpack? I was your guy. Any device, any contraption… my brother and I were the best. But… talking through stuff? Yeah, not really my forte…

I wasn't the best with emotional issues, was largely too awkward to give the best advice, and generally liked to live life as drama free as possible. So when Isabella shrugged dejectedly, her gaze still on the ground, I had no clue what to do.

Well… we could sit down, I guess. That seemed a good first rule for talking through things. I tugged her over to one of the pool chairs near the edge of the water. She plopped down without argument, still refusing to meet my eyes.

"Why couldn't you sleep?" I tried again.

"I was just… preoccupied," she answered. "I have a lot on my mind."

"When that happens to me, I grab a blueprint and—"

"Thanks, Phin, but… that won't really work for me."

Well. That was about all the advice I had to give. That was it; she'd depleted my mighty arsenal.

"Um… well, I'm afraid I'm not going to be much help to you," I admitted, rubbing the back of my neck. "But, hey, you've always got your friends, right?"

She stared at me. Was it my imagination, or did her frown sink a little deeper? Man, I really wasn't good at this whole cheering-up-a-friend thing. Not without being able to plan something out and create, at least. Maybe I could do that… Of course, there were no blueprints here, and all I had to work with was a garden hose and some pool equipment… Maybe I could—

"This isn't a time for inventing," she sighed, and I started.

"What?"

"You had that face… that, _I know what we're going to do today, _kind of face," she laughed, shaking her head. Her hands moved up to rub her arms, while she was speaking, and she drew her legs up onto the seat. "But quarter to three isn't the best time for that, you goof."

She… wasn't actually wearing a lot of clothes. Because… of course, she was in her pajamas, which totally made sense. I hadn't realized she might have been chilly.

"You cold?" I asked, and she shrugged, her eyes tracing the plastic straps that made up the pool chair. "You're almost shivering," I intoned flatly, but she made no response.

Well, I obviously failed with my previous cheering up attempts, but I could at least show her that I cared, right? Maybe all she needed was some silent support from her friends—little things that showed here we were here. I shrugged off my hoodie and held it out to her.

"What?" She looked at the bunched up fabric in my hands, then stared at me like I had dropped from outer space. No, you know, that was pretty common for us. She looked at me like I was from somewhere even weirder than space. Buford's basement, maybe?

"Deny all you'd like, but you're cold," I stated, bobbing my hand up and down trying to get her to take it.

"But… but…" Her eyebrows furrowed, like she couldn't piece it together, so I just dropped it into her hands.

"But what?" I asked. "Look, I know it might be a little big, but it's the best I can do."

"But you—and earlier… and you're always—but then the _rambling_ and all of _that_, and now _this_," she waved the hoodie in her hands, "and I—but you-you… you're just—"

"Izzy, what are you talking about?" I could almost see the smoke coming out of her ears. She looked down at the hoodie in her hands like she was going to scream at it.

"But earlier… and even earlier than that—and in the room, with all the anger, and-and—and now _here_—Phineas Flynn," she finally looked back up at me. "I… You… wait—why aren't you wearing a shirt?"

* * *

><p><strong>ISABELLA<strong>

The process of my mind exploding could only have been cut off by the realization that Phineas was shirtless. The moonlight reflected off my pool with a silvery glow, and I suddenly felt like I'd been transported onto the cover of some cliché romance novel.

Phineas glanced down at himself like he hadn't even noticed, but shrugged.

"I'm fine. I at least have pants on. You barely have anything." Oh, I felt my cheeks heating up. Good thing it was dark out here. "Honestly, it's what friends do, right?"

And… there was reality again. It's what _friends_ do. There was the good ol' Phineas I knew and loved… and was infinitely frustrated with.

Granted, I couldn't ignore the fact that he was here. That said something. But it was little statements like that that… just got to me. I used to be better with rolling with them, but they'd been getting under my skin more and more as we grew up. I'd be eighteen in a couple months. I couldn't help but feel we should have been past the 'friend' comments three years ago.

I just sat there. I'm sure my eyes were wide, and a good minute passed before I managed to stutter a thanks. Phineas rolled his eyes, snatching the hoodie from my hands, which had gotten balled up during my—confusion? Fit? Whatever that was. Nothing made sense!

Because let's say I stop analyzing Phineas' words and intentions and just appreciate the fact that he's here… that still didn't change the fact that _Ferb kissed me today._ And that I had kissed him back… I couldn't even begin to process how that would fit into all of this.

"You know, Isabella," Phineas laughed, straightening out the hoodie, "it does its job better if you wear it."

I nodded numbly and held my hand out, my brain overwhelmed by the day's events. The cloth touched the tips of my fingers, and I fumbled with it clumsily. Phineas snorted out a laugh, grabbing my arm and pulling it through the sleeve. He did that with my second arm, then brought it up over my head.

"Isn't that better?" he asked, an almost smug smile on his face. I nodded again, suddenly engulfed in the warmth that used to be Phineas.

"Thanks," I managed, my voice stronger this time. Phineas' smile morphed into the genuine one I'd known for years.

"Like I said, it's what friends do."

_Ouch. _ Yet again…

"Of course," I mumbled in response, pulling on the edges of the sleeves.

For an insane second, I knew my world had been turned upside down, because Phineas started leaning towards me. _Leaning _towards _me… _Only to stand up. Of course he was leaning forward to stand up. Of course.

"I have to get back before someone notices I'm gone," Phineas said. He started making his way to the gate, but stopped short. He came back and gave me a quick hug, then crossed my yard again. "I hope I made you feel better, though. You know how much Ferb and I care about you."

Brain implosion.

I could barely manage a weak, "yeah."

"Don't worry about my hoodie," he said, opening the gate. "Just give it to me tomorrow. We have a big day planned, and we both need our sleep. We don't want to let Ferb down, right?"

He left.

_Don't want to let Ferb down._

That was it, my mind was officially mulch—liquid granite that I could taste on the tip of my tongue and in the back of my throat.

I sat there for a few more minutes. It was impossible to tell how long exactly, but when I noticed the cold starting to seep back into the sweatshirt, I stood. I wanted to hold on to the warmth as long as possible.

I went back inside. I walked up the stairs, I went to my room, I stepped over Ginger's sleeping form, and I collapsed on my bed.

But I didn't sleep.

I just stared at the ceiling for a few more hours, analyzing and over-analyzing—wondering at the craziness that was life today.

* * *

><p><em>RR please!_

_Hope you all enjoyed it!_

_~Lilly-Belle_


	8. Trouble

_I hope you guys enjoy!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Phineas and Ferb._

* * *

><p>CHAPTER EIGHT:<p>

Trouble

**PHINEAS**

I had just stepped inside and shut the back door behind me when I realized that I hadn't _actually_ gotten Isabella to tell me what was wrong in the first place.

"Crap!" I hissed under my breath, unable to hold back my face palm. Leave it to me to forget the reason I'd even gone over there at this hour. Then I heard the creak of a floorboard behind me.

"What's wrong, Phineas? Didn't want to get caught?"

It was a good thing it was dark; I probably looked like a spasmodic frog with how high I jumped.

"Candace?"

The lamp on one of our end tables snapped to life, revealing my very smug-looking sister. With a smirk, she slowly tightened the rope of her bathrobe. Then she brushed some hair wisps out of her face. When she was satisfied, she moved on to study her fingernails, taking her time before she addressed me with a harsh whisper.

"Phineas Flynn, you are _so_ busted."

She had a distinct air of superiority, victory, and self-satisfaction. Not that I could blame her, of course. I mean, she just caught her kid brother sneaking back into the house at three in the morning. That was big sister gold.

"Candace, I can explain," I stuttered, but I could already feel my face heating up. Why the heck was I blushing? I had just popped over to make sure Isabella was okay. I was being a good friend, and nothing was wrong with that. _Sigh_… it was times like these that I remembered exactly why I never broke the rules.

"I'm sure you can," she said back, thankfully keeping her voice down to a whisper, "but before you say anything else, where's Ferb? How could he have come in without me catching him?" Her eyes glittered with an odd hunger, like she never expected the day she'd catch Ferb and I doing anything wrong.

"Ferb's in bed."

She raised her eyebrows, surprised by this news. "But you two do practically everything together."

"Not when I'm breaking the rules," I retorted. She scoffed and crossed her arms, a clear _touché_ gesture.

"Okay. Fair enough."

"It's almost three, Candace, can't I go to bed?" I made a move as if to shuffle past her, but she held her arm out.

"Are you kidding? Oh no, I have some questions."

I sighed. Of course she did. I gestured for her to go ahead.

"I just, I have to know… why did you sneak out of the house in pajama pants and… no shirt?" Her eyebrows knit together in confusion, but I could tell she was trying not to laugh.

Ah, the awkwardness was among us. There was something inexplicably embarrassing in answering her. I decided to answer her with a question of my own.

"How did you catch me?"

She eyed me, clearly not fooled by my roundabout stall tactic, but as I figured, she decided to answer me anyway.

"Phineas, I'm sleeping _in the basement._ Do you know how creaky these floorboards are? Seriously, hon, if you're finally going to start breaking the rules, you've got a lot to learn."

I laughed quietly, rubbing the back of my head: my _touché _gesture to her.

"Now you get to answer _my_ question. Pajama pants and no shirt. Really?"

"I _left_ with a shirt on," I replied defensively.

"_Left _with one?" she chuckled. "What happened, get attacked by a shirt-stealing mob of gorillas?" She was struggling to keep it quiet. I crossed my arms and stared at the floor.

"No."

"Start a new nighttime fashion line, got desperate, then sold the clothes off your back?" she was cracking up something fierce now.

"No, I—"

"Built a laser ray powered by moonlight that—"

"Isabella was cold, so I gave it to her."

Candace's laughter stopped instantly. Her entire demeanor changed. She stood up straighter, her eyes became gentler, and her face went from smug to stunned.

Well… there was that inexplicable embarrassment again. She was silent for ten seconds.

"You were with Isabella?" she asked, and I was surprised to hear her voice was suddenly softer now, too.

Was I missing something here?

"Yeah," I confirmed hesitantly, confused by her tone.

"You were just meeting up with her? Only her? Just now," she clarified, her head tilting to the side like she couldn't process what I was saying. What was with girls doing that tonight?

"Yes," I answered again. "She was upset earlier, and I didn't know why. I couldn't sleep, so I thought I'd check up on her. Make sure she was okay, you know?"

Candace was quiet for a minute, and then a small smile crept across her face.

"Sure, Phineas. I know." She turned around, making her way back down the hall.

"Wait," I called in a whisper. "What about me being busted?"

Candace waved her hand dismissively from the top of the basement stairs.

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but tonight you're off the hook."

She shot me that smile again, and something in it rang with approval. Which… was anomalous. My sister was caring and protective, but she certainly wasn't the _off the hook_ type of person. She was the _hook spearing through mouth and dragging you to shore because I love you_ type of person. If… such a type existed, of course.

"Just go to bed before Mom or Dad catch you, okay?" she sighed, and I could only nod through my confusion. With that, she disappeared.

* * *

><p><strong>ISABELLA<strong>

I didn't want to wake up, so why was my bed shaking? It wasn't enough to completely jar me, but it did drag me into a groggy, semi-aware state. I didn't appreciate it. At all. Sunlight beat against my eyelids, trying its hardest to pull me out of bed, but I wouldn't have that.

My few hours of sleep were as black as my mother's bitter coffee, and I was liable to say some pretty snarky and short-tempered things if she tried to drag me out from under my covers now. I doubted I had slept deeply enough to dream, but I was okay with that. Who knew what my subconscious would drag up after all the happenings of last night?

"Isabella?" Mom intoned, her voice lilting in a sing-song way that made me want to shudder right now. It was too cheery, too… _morning_. "Isabella, wake up."

I muttered something about not wanting to before turning on my side, away from the window. I pulled my covers over my head, burrowing deeper into its warmth.

"Isabella, wake up," the voice said again, just as cheerily. "You're in so much _trouble_, Isabella."

Trouble? That was enough to fully drag me from slumber land, and my brain finally processed something. The voice that spoke wasn't my mother.

I sat up so quickly that I almost head-butted Ginger. Luckily, she scrambled back in time, cracking up at my disorientation.

"Ginger?" I asked through a yawn. Oh wait, Ginger slept over last night. Duh!

"Good morning," she laughed, sitting with her legs crossed on the edge of my bed. I rubbed my eyes, trying to adjust them once again to the world of the living. I registered the fact that Ginger was already dressed, which was a rarity for our sleepovers. She often stayed in her pajamas until at least nine.

I finally took in her face, and what I saw there made me gulp. She had one of the most deviously sly expressions I'd ever seen.

"What's… that look for?" I asked, despite the fact that I probably didn't want to know the answer. "I—I _really _don't like that look."

"Well let's see…" she started, sarcasm in her voice as she dramatically laid back over my legs. "What could possibly condone such a scandalized look?"

"Sweetheart, it's early" I yawned, rubbing my eyes again. "Don't make me play some guessing game."

"Okay then…" she drawled. "Maybe it could be the fact that I go to sleep at my best friend's house with the knowledge that Ferb Fletcher kissed her…" She moved her hands into a steeple, one of her eyebrows lifting inquisitively. "But wake up to see her uncharacteristically tired, and wearing a hoodie that belongs to none other than Phineas Flynn."

_Oh boy_. I looked down, and saw… yes indeed, I was still wearing the sweatshirt. _Smooth move, Isabella._ But why was it a big deal? I was in love with Phineas. There was nothing wrong with me wearing his hoodie. Nothing wrong with it at all…

"Busted!" Ginger giggled, her hands moving behind her head. "What happened?"

I sighed, too tired to really protest. "I heard a rock hit the window, and opened it to find Phineas down below. He wanted to talk to me about why I stormed out earlier, saw I was cold, and gave me his sweatshirt."

"So you stepped over my sleeping body for a secret rendezvous with a boy?" she gasped, her fangirling side bubbling to the surface.

"Chill, Ginger," I groaned, shaking my head. "It wasn't a big deal."

She stared at me, absolutely dumbstruck.

"What?" I asked hesitantly. I didn't like that look…

"Who are you and what have you done with my Izzy?"

"What are you talking about?"

"_You,_" she exclaimed, her hand flying out to gesture at me. "It's '_not a bid deal?_' How out of character is _that?_ Phineas came over to see you in the middle of the night, one-on-one. I would have thought your head would have exploded from pure bliss right now."

Huh.

I guess she made a good point. I should have been insanely happy. But I also knew Ginger was missing some important details.

"He may have come over, but he was still clueless. I can't tell you how many times he said, '_it's what friends do_.'" I tapped the side of her arm, wiggling my legs, and she sat up long enough for me to pull them free from her weight. I stretched my toes and ankles, and swung them over the side of my bed.

"Wow…" Ginger scoffed, and I nodded.

"Actually, I can tell you. He said it four times." I stood, stretching my arms now. Maybe if I could get my blood flowing to my limbs again, this morning wouldn't seem like such a daunting task. I let out another yawn.

"You are right, though," I conceded. "I can't ignore the fact that he was here. I know that says something… but it still hurts. I don't know how many more _friend_ comments I can take. He's completely oblivious!"

"As opposed to Ferb," she giggled, and I froze.

"That has nothing to do with it."

"Uh huh."

"I told you, Ginge', that was an accident," I huffed. "I don't feel anything for Ferb."

I didn't! I couldn't… it was crazy. It was completely preposterous. Impossible! It was Ferb—the greatest person ever, but… not the boy I was in love with! Not Phineas.

"I'm not buying it," she said, sitting up and watching me. I didn't like how knowing she looked right now.

"You don't have to _buy_ _it_ for it to be true."

With an incredible amount of regret, I pulled Phineas' hoodie off. The air in my room chilled my once cozy arms, and I resisted the urge to pout. Bed was beckoning me once again.

Ginger wolf-whistled, the sound alarming sharp in the quiet space.

"No wonder Phineas gave you his hoodie," she hooted. "He always sees you in dresses or jeans. In shorts and a cami, he probably had to cover you up just to control himself."

Oh god, that was probably one of the most mortifying things she could have said. I felt my cheeks burn fiercely, but didn't want to give her such satisfaction. I buried it in the hoodie to hide… which didn't help anything. It smelled like Phineas, and made me even more self-conscious. I quickly tossed it behind me to my bed.

"Aw, Izzy's turning pink," she cooed, and I spun away from her. Dreaded girlfriends and their mad teasing skills…

"It's not funny," I quipped, but laughed to try to ease the embarrassment. My hand was groping futilely at the empty air near my shoulder, and I realized I had been going for my hair… which of course was up in a bun.

_The tense way you play with your clothes when you're nervous or upset, and your hair when you're embarrassed._

Now I felt myself grow even redder. I hadn't—god, how could I never even realized I did that? It was so embarrassing to… to have people know when I was embarrassed! And he had known. He knew so much about me.

I wanted to bang my head against the wall, because now Ferb was in my brain just as much as Phineas was, and I had no idea what to do with that.

How had that happened? How had he managed to work his way up there? He shouldn't be there! He _shouldn't!_

"Phineas picked once hell of a night to notice I was upset," I breathed, more to myself than to Ginger. "I mean, seriously! Out of all the times I've left there heartbroken—hundreds and hundreds of times, mind you—the _one_ time he notices is the one time I leave his brother's room after he kissed me!"

"I know," Ginger said, her voice surprisingly saturated with regret. I turned around.

"Everything okay?"

She looked taken aback by my sudden concern, but let out a quick laugh.

"Yeah, I'm fine. It's just that my mom wanted me home six minutes ago, so I'm going to have to leave."

"Six minutes ago?" I asked uncomprehendingly. She nodded. "Wait, what time is it?"

"10:36."

10:36! _What?_ I scrambled forward, looking at the clock on my night table. What had happened to the morning? Had I turned off my alarm in my sleep?

"Ginger, I've got to hop in the shower!" I rushed out, jumping to my drawers to grab a new pair of underwear and bra. "Phineas and Ferb expected me hours ago!"

"Oh gee, thanks, Isabella," Ginger muttered sarcastically, and I stopped to look at her. "Say goodbye to one friend first before rushing off to the next, would ya'?"

I smiled apologetically, moving to hug my best friend. I could tell she wasn't actually upset, but she had a fair point. "Sorry," I grumbled, and she laughed before pulling back.

"Have _fun_ today, Isabella," she giggled deviously, and I rolled my eyes at her.

"Not as much fun as I think you're hoping for, you weirdo." I shook my head at her, and she gave me one of those _only because I love you _looks.

"Only for you, darling," she teased, grabbing all her stuff. She'd let herself out; that much was common for us.

"See you later," I called, and she left, but a second later she poked her head back in the door.

"Hey, Isabella?" she hummed sweetly, and I looked over my shoulder at her.

"Huh?"

"Try to keep it in your pants when you see Ferb today, okay?"

My pillow was in my hand for half a second before I sent it flying across the room and into her face.

This was going to be difficult... It already _was_ difficult!

And I hadn't even made it to the boys yet.

* * *

><p><em>RR please!_

_Ah, it's such fun to tease Izzy… I really do enjoy it._

_Although, I eventually can get downright mean to her ^.^ in all the best ways, of course. Hope you keep reading to find out!_

_~Lilly-Belle_


	9. Cognizance

_Disclaimer: I do not own Phineas and Ferb._

_If I did, there'd be a lot more shipping._

* * *

><p>CHAPTER NINE:<p>

Cognizance

**FERB**

This had to be one of the most bizarre mornings of my adolescence. I appreciated the humor and irony; what made this morning so odd was the complete lack of odd things. There were no lasers, no sounds of hammers or sawing, no towering mechanisms. There was nothing out of the ordinary, if one lived in any other house. But for us, it was almost… disturbing.

It was ten in the morning, and Phineas had just woken up. He'd snoozed a few times at seven, then turned his alarm clock off altogether—something I'd never seen him do. Then he acted surprised, like he hadn't even realized how late it was.

We were now sitting at the table—eating lunch, since Phineas had missed breakfast. For the most part, he was acting normal, but at the same time… not so much.

"Phineas, are you feeling alright, honey?" Mum asked, doing the dishes from the grilled cheeses she'd made us. "It's not like you to get up so late."

"I'm fine, Mom," Phineas said simply before wolfing down his sandwich. Mum still didn't seem pleased with that, though, because she came over and put her head on his forehead.

"Honestly, sweetheart, if you don't feel well it's okay. Your face is a little red, though your forehead isn't too hot. Are you sure—"

"Mom, let him be," Candace said, entering the kitchen and making her way to the fridge. "Phineas is a big boy, and if he says he feels fine, he's fine." She poured herself a cup of milk and rested against the counter, holding it in one hand and looking down at her phone in the other.

_Oooookay… _since when did Candace come to Phineas' rescue when Mum got protective?

"Besides," my sister continued, giving Phineas a significant look, "isn't a seventeen year old boy allowed one day to sleep in without getting grilled like his sandwich? Leave him be." She downed the rest of her milk and started towards the door. "I'm going to the store. Text me if you think of anything else we need."

Oh yes, something was going on. Candace's behavior, the pinkish tint to Phineas' cheeks… my brother had some explaining to do. Phineas took the opening, though, and pulled me to the backyard, giving a shout of thanks to our mum on the way.

Once we were in our backyard, I raised my eyebrow at him; _spill._

"Work while we talk," Phineas laughed, heading toward the garage to get some tools. "We've got some time to make up for."

Then, as Phineas and I worked on wiring for his Thought Machine, he told me how he'd gone over to Isabella's house in the middle of the night.

"I know you thought I should give her a little space," he said almost guiltily, "but I just wanted to make sure she was fine."

I motioned for him to go on, and he laughed.

"You know, I never actually got an answer about what was bothering her, but I do think I cheered her up."

I nodded my head toward the kitchen as if to say, _and in there_?

"Yeah, I know it was odd," Phineas said. "Candace caught me last night when I was sneaking back inside, but after she heard I was at Isabella's, she 'let me off the hook.' Pretty weird, right?"

I nodded, focusing back on the wiring in my hands.

Through the years, I'd been asked from many sources—Buford, Baljeet, Candace, Mum, and any number of Fireside Girls—if I, in my infinite silence and observation, thought if Phineas had feelings for Isabella.

Every time I was asked, I responded with the same thing; _Phineas cares about Isabella a lot, but doesn't put any romantic stress on it, because he likes focusing on projects that make others happy. It isn't that he doesn't like her, he simply lacks any cognizance of females. Some day, he could very well wake up and find that he likes her, but girls or dating aren't even on his mental radar right now._

That's what I told others, but Phineas' acknowledgement of other couples on the community service day, like Ginger and Baljeet, or Katie and Django, skewed the validity of my assumption. My brother _was_ aware of females, romantic feelings, dating, all that lot. He just wasn't aware of any of it when it came to himself.

I loved my brother, but there have been times when I've chaffed against being his sidekick. Phineas was the outspoken, confident poster boy that everybody loved. People addressed him, rather than both of us. Girls fawned over him, though he was blind to it all and no one dared cross Isabella. It was something that I'd learned to accept and reconcile with; I was happy and had what I needed. But it made me reconsider how I viewed Phineas.

Underneath his glowing layers of confidence, maybe there was some doubt there. Perhaps, on a subconscious level, he was insecure about girls, and believed he wasn't worth noticing in a romantic way. Thus, he never saw himself getting noticed that way by Isabella. In an odd way, it made sense.

My brother, the great Phineas Flynn, may actually be insecure about something.

Of course, now would be the absolute worst time for him to start seeing things differently. I'd just realized I had feelings for Isabella, feelings that maybe even went back for years. Unlike my brother, I acted on them. And where as I don't know where Isabella will go with it, I figured I at least I had a chance. A chance that would dissolve immediately if Phineas developed feelings for her.

It was horrible, but for once I was rooting for Phineas' knack of being oblivious.

* * *

><p><strong>ISABELLA<strong>

_I just shouldn't go, _I argued with myself for the dozenth time, stepping out of the shower. The whole thing was crazy complicated. _But if you don't go, Phineas will know for sure something is up. _And what kind of message would that send to Ferb?

I sighed and slumped down on the edge of my bed, still wrapped up in my towel. This would be so much easier if I just knew what I wanted. I'd always wanted Phineas, but after what happened yesterday, everything was wonky. It was like the nice, orderly file drawer in my brain entitled _Things Isabella Knows and Feels_ got bucked by a horse, scattering its contents around my mind in a flurry.

Could I just move on from Phineas? After so many years? I didn't know if I could, even if I did like Ferb. But did I have feelings for Ferb? I could have just been upset over Phineas, and looking for any form of comfort. That was something people did, right?

_Yeah, that would make sense_, I told myself. That would be a perfect explanation for why I'd kissed him back, right? That could explain everything! But… not why I liked it so much. I mean, it was more than just a simple kiss. I was on his lap, for Pete's sake! Pulling on him, and running my hand through his hair, and doing things I never thought I would.

And what he said was so sweet. But then Phineas was sweet too, showing up last night to make sure I was fine… Ugh, boys sucked.

With a groan, I fell back on my bed, my arms flopping to my side, where I stayed for a solid chunk of time.

"Isa?" my mom called, peeking her head into my room. "Buenos dias, mija. You're getting a late start today. Why aren't you dressed?"

"You know what, Mom, screw it!" I jumped up off my bed, making my way to my closet and tossing on the first thing my hands touched—a pink sundress. I grabbed my hairbrush and started yanking it through my hair. "You always told me when things didn't feel okay, that I had the power to make it okay. So I'm going to go over to my best friends' house, and I'm going to enjoy myself."

"O…kay?" my mom said, raising her eyebrow at my odd behavior.

"And any stupid complications can be damned!" I exclaimed, slipping on my shoes. I hardly ever cussed, but I was fed up with always being frustrated by boys. I grabbed the hoodie from my bed and turned to go out the door, but my mom blocked my way.

"Isa, is there something bothering you? Is something going on between you and Phineas? Habla me."

"Boys are trouble, Mom, but I'm handling it." I kissed her on the cheek, and made my way out the door.

* * *

><p><em>RR please!_

_And if you guys see any grammar mistakes or issues, please point them out. This is my first __fan fiction, and I don't have a beta reader or anything like that. I try to hawk out as many issues as I can, and I'm pretty good at it, but when it's your own story, things can just sweep under your editing eye. Thanks._


	10. Banter

_Disclaimer: I do not own Phineas and Ferb._

* * *

><p>CHAPTER TEN:<p>

Banter

**ISABELLA**

After my brave and determined decision to go to Phineas and Ferb's house and have fun no matter what, I had hoped there wouldn't be any awkwardness. I had not, however, taken into account the possibility of Baljeet and Buford being there.

As soon as I walked in the gate, I wanted to chuck Phineas' jacket over the fence, hide it behind my back and make it disappear, anything to avoid questions as to why I had it. Any day before yesterday, that wouldn't have been a problem, but I was all mixed up now.

"Hey, Isabella, what'cha doing… with Dinnerbell's hoodie?" I shot Buford a death glare for using my trademark phrase.

"Just returning it," I responded shortly. I tried to sound tough; it was the only thing Buford responded to. He got the message to drop it, but no doubt news would spread of my borrowing Phineas' jacket. I wasn't sure if that should bother me.

"Thanks, Isabella!" Phineas enthused from a pile of wires. "Just toss it inside. We're almost done!"

I did what he asked, then turned back around. "So, what'cha doing?" I asked, sitting down across the wires from Phineas and Ferb with a careful arrangement of my dress. "And… how is it almost done? It looks like a sloppy pile of cords."

I was careful to look only at the invention, avoiding both brothers' eyes.

"That's what you think for now, but just wait… a moment…" Phineas connected two more wires, and Ferb pulled out a remote control. "Hit it, Ferb!"

Ferb met my eyes for just a second, but they were completely unreadable. He pushed a big red button on the remote, and all the wires retracted, a metal casing appeared, and it shrunk down. One second later, a mechanical bowtie laid on the grass.

"Behold!" Phineas yelled with the same child-like enthusiasm as he had for years. "I present The Mind-Reading Bowtie 3000!"

"Really, is the big number necessary?" Baljeet muttered, only to be put in a headlock by Buford.

"I like the number," he growled, and Baljeet chuckled nervously.

"Wait, _mind reading_?" I asked uncertainly. I wasn't sure if I wanted my mind read today.

"Yeah," Phineas said with a smile. "I asked you yesterday if you liked the idea while we were planting trees, and you said yes."

_I did?_ I'm sure I had said yes, though I may not have been paying full attention to his question. _That's what you get, Isabella_, I thought with a humorless laugh.

"It's mostly what's skittering across your mind just below the surface," Phineas said excitedly. "So it won't be _I wonder what I'll think, _but the thoughts just below that."

_Oh boy… this should be fun…_

Phineas went first, his thoughts playing from a small speaker on the machine. Though his lips didn't move, we all could hear Phineas' voice say, _I'm really happy the old_ _gang is together again. Having us all here in the backyard is nostalgic and—hey, where's Perry? _

Some part of me wondered—hoped?—he might mention me specifically, but I wasn't surprised when he hadn't. I actually wasn't disappointed, either, but I really couldn't trust my reactions to anything today.

Baljeet was running through equations in his head… backwards and in Hindi. Smarty pants.

Buford snatched the bowtie off Baljeet pretty quickly, putting it on himself. Buford's voice came from the speaker, delving into an embarrassing internal monologue about his goldfish, Biff. He pulled it off huffily, putting it back down on the grass.

"This doesn't leave the backyard," he growled, and we all laughed. Then Phineas turned toward Ferb and I.

"That leaves you two. Who wants to go first?"

I looked at Ferb, and he shrugged, his eyes saying it was my choice. I sighed, and was about to grudgingly volunteer, when the backdoor slid open, and Mrs. Flynn-Fletcher poked her head out.

"I made snacks for whoever wants them," she said with a smile.

Buford jumped at her words, rushing into the house like a crazed elephant. Phineas and Baljeet followed after more calmly. When Ferb made no show of interest, I decided to stay too; I had to see if we could function normally while I figured this all out.

"None for you, Isabella?" Mrs. Flynn-Fletcher questioned, and I turned her down with a polite thanks. With that, she shrugged and shut the door.

"Not hungry?" Ferb asked, and I smiled as I heard his voice. It always bothered me that he would never talk in group settings; he was undervalued.

"Thought I'd maybe convince you to help me, ah… mulch the machine?" I asked with a laugh. "Then we could both avoid it."

"Maybe I want to hear what you're thinking."

"And maybe you don't," I shot back.

He smirked. "And maybe I'd be okay with the risk."

"And _perhaps_," I emphasized the word, breaking our pattern, "I don't want to rob you of the joys and frustrations of actual conversation. Let the others see what a witty banterer you are, Mr. Fletcher. Then I won't feel so bad for monopolizing your words."

"Not a chance," he laughed again, and it stirred something inside of me. It was the sort of thing that only Phineas had been able to create in me, and yet, here I sat with Ferb, feeling a little… odd inside. A good odd. And it was terrifying.

I looked down at my hands, afraid my face would betray something. Ferb clearly sensed the change in my attitude, apparently finding it a good place to interrupt our—oh god, was I flirting?—with a change of subject.

"I heard you had a visitor last night," he said.

"Phineas told you, I take it?"

"Mostly. I don't know whether to be annoyed or amused that he left out the bit about the jacket." Usually, Ferb didn't let any emotions show, but this time, his face fell, just slightly. "Did you—"

"I didn't tell him what happened," I confirmed, though I couldn't tell if he was pleased or upset with my answer. My hands drifted to the bottom of my dress, and I wrung the pink hem between my fingers.

After a minute, Ferb still hadn't said anything, so I looked back up at his face. One of his eyebrows were raised and his lips were pressed into tightly together. With a shock, I realized he was trying not to laugh. His eyes darted from the edge of my skirt in my hands, to my face, then back again.

"Nervous, Isabella?" he asked with a knowing smile.

"No," I lied. I quickly let go of my skirt, smoothing it out as nonchalantly as I could. It was… so embarrassing, to be read like that. I felt my face heating up, and I knew I was blushing, but I tried to ignore it.

Instead of responding, Ferb pressed the back of his hand to his mouth in an effort to not burst out laughing. "What?" I asked, feeling the blush spread to my nose. Then it hit me. I realized I had gone from playing with my clothes to playing with the ends of my hair, like Ferb said I did when I was embarrassed.

My hands snapped back down to my lap, and Ferb's eyes glimmered with mirth. He opened his mouth to make a comment, but I cut him off.

"Not a word! Not a single word, you bloody Brit!"

He laughed and gave me look I'd never received before. We'd always bantered, but now it had a… different side to it. _Yes_, I realized with a start, _Ferb was _actually_ flirting with me_.

"But I thought you liked my words. You may be defensive now, but deep down you find them clever and charming."

I scoffed, but was unable to keep myself from smiling. "Yeah right. Or maybe I find your banter is a massive overcompensation for—"

"Boy, you guys missed out!" Buford exclaimed as everyone else came back outside. He sat down right between us and let out a belch. "So, how was the conversation out here?"

Buford meant the question as a joke; Ferb never really talked to anyone but Phineas, as far as he and Baljeet knew. He was trying to be ironic and funny, but it only made me blush again. Ferb talked more when he was around me than maybe even Phineas, and the way Buford said that made it seem like it was Ferb and I's secret. In a strange way, maybe it was.

"Actually, our conversation was quite invigorating," Ferb responded, and everyone stared at him, including me. Before Buford or Baljeet could question it, though, Phineas laughed.

"All your conversations are invigorating, Ferb, or you wouldn't bother having them." He picked up the Mind-Reading Bowtie 3000. "So, I take it you decided who was next, then?"

Ferb once again surprised me, putting his hand out for the machine.

"Ok, Ferbooch," Phineas said, giving it to him. "This should be interesting. I bet we're all wondering what's behind your quiet façade."

"Probably something about tea and doilies," Buford muttered. Ferb put on the bowtie.

_I enjoy the fact that this machine is a bowtie. Very odd. Perhaps Perry leads a double life; it definitely would explain why he disappears everyday. Isabella looks beautiful in her dress today, or any day, really. Not once have I even touched a doily, but it is sad that Buford is so uncomfortable with his feminine side that he feels the need to make comments._

With that, Ferb took it off. Baljeet burst out laughing at the end, receiving a death glare from Buford. His compliment was having a heyday in my head, and I had no clue what my face looked like.

"You should wear that thing all the time," Phineas said, evidently unfazed by Ferb's compliment. "It's cool to know what you're thinking."

There was a moment of silence, and then Phineas looked at me.

"I guess it's your turn now, Isabella."

* * *

><p><em>RR please!_

_I really like the idea of Ferb bantering, but only around select people. I kept him his usual quiet self around other people, but I like him talking to Phineas and Isabella. It's cute._


	11. Normal

_Disclaimer: I do not own Phineas and Ferb._

* * *

><p>CHAPTER ELEVEN:<p>

Normal

**FERB**

I held the machine out for Isabella, giving her my best mischievous smile. With a sigh, she took it, but instead of putting it around her neck like the rest of us, she put it on the top of her head, like the hair bow she used to wear when she was little. I could tell she was a little nervous, unsure of just what would come out when…

"Hey," Candace said, peeking her head out the door, "I'm back. You guys mind helping me put the groceries away?"

Isabella's eyes flashed with relief as she stared at Candace. _I wonder when Jeremy will finally propose to Candace, _the machine said from atop her head. _I've always rooted for those two. It's so romantic, how long they've liked each other. It's kind of like—_

Candace rushed forward and plucked the bow off her head, and I could see Isabella was pleased.

"What is this?" my sister asked, some of her old sixteen-year-old self shining through her more mature exterior.

"The Mind-Reading Bowtie 3000!" Phineas exclaimed proudly.

Candace tossed it down on the grass. "Of course it is," she said sarcastically. "Why should I be surprised? I'll bust you _after_ you put the groceries away."

I shot Isabella a look that said, _oh, you are _so _lucky._

We all got up and followed Candace inside, Baljeet muttering something about how much Candace had mellowed out since college. Between all of us teenagers, it was done quickly, but by the time we made it back outside, the Mind-Reading Bowtie 3000 was gone. The grass where it'd been laying was… smoking?

"Of course it's gone," Candace muttered from the door, covering her eyes with an exasperated sigh. "It's always gone." She slowly retreated back into the house with a continuing mutter of_ gone._

"Some day, Ferb, we'll have to look into where our inventions go," Phineas said, examining the blackened grass.

"But at least clean up has always been easy," Isabella chimed in.

The rest of the afternoon passed by pretty quickly. We played a few video games and had one round of dominoes. Buford and Baljeet left shortly after, and my brother, Isabella, and I poked about in the garage before dinnertime.

"I know there's inspiration in here for tomorrow," Phineas said as he ran his hand over some tools. "We just have to find it."

Isabella was shuffling through a cabinet in the corner as I dug through a chest with all our old sports equipment, tossing aside a couple baseballs, a deflated soccer ball, and a basketball. Our meandering was only interrupted when a phone vibrated.

"My mom said dinner is ready," Isabella sighed, looking at her cellphone. "I have to go home."

Just then, as if all mothers had some sort of internal dinnertime alarm, Mum popped her head into the garage. "Dinner's on the table," she said. "Isabella, sweetheart, you're welcome to join us. I made tacos."

"Thank you, Mrs. Flynn-Fletcher," Isabella replied sweetly, "but my mom made dinner. I was just about to go home." She bounded up and hugged my mum. Phineas gave her a hug too, before heading inside with an exclamation of, _tacos!_

I stood up from the chest, spinning the old basketball on my finger.

"I meant what I thought," I said to Isabella, and she turned around. "The part about you. But I also know how you feel about my brother, so I won't push it any further. I'll act normal."

"Ferb—" She had a pained expression on her face, but I couldn't tell what that meant. Was she unhappy because I put her in an awkward position, which brought on the issue of my needing to act normal? Or was it because maybe she liked where this was going, and didn't want that? Honestly, I couldn't tell… which was new territory for me when it came to Isabella.

Then she gave me a weak smile and said, "I'm not even sure I know what normal looks like."

"Well our normal is pretty weird, but that's not the point."

She was gradually retreating out the open garage door, but she never turned away from me. When I didn't say anything, she snorted and rolled her eyes.

"Stop being so dramatic, Ferb! What's the point?"

"The _point_, Isabella," I said slowly, "is that I'll be your best friend before anything else." I bounced her the basketball, which she caught with ease. "This is my way of saying the ball's on your side of the court now. What you do with that is your choice."

Wordlessly, she nodded, and I smiled at her before heading inside for dinner.

* * *

><p><strong>ISABELLA<strong>

I took what Ferb said to heart; I focused on keeping things normal. Three weeks had passed since our mind reading day, and everyday had been just like those when we were ten: inexplicable creations, unpredictable events, and unexpected surprises.

I showed up, asked my usual catchphrase of _what'cha doing? _Somebody asked where Perry was. We started building something and had a blast. Somehow, the invention disappeared at the end of the day. After all these years, everything blurred together like extreme déjà vu, but it was never dull.

It was completely normal… except for one thing. I couldn't bring myself to vie for Phineas' attention. I didn't try to flirt or draw his eye. That's not to say I ignored Phineas; I don't think I could ever do that. He was fiercely pressed into my mental radar, and I was always acutely aware of him. I just didn't go out of my way to get him to notice me like I had the past twelve years.

Things were way too complicated to even approach; Ferb had feelings for me, and started creating… something in me when I was around him. But Phineas was Phineas. He'd always been _my_ Phineas. Even considering other possibilities was bizarre after all these years fawning after the redhead and yet… somehow I was. Was I? The whole thing scared me.

Thus, I didn't touch the issue with a twenty-foot pole. I focused on our inventions and hanging out with both my boys as friends. Buford and Baljeet started coming over more often, which helped things. We were all there, older, developed, and different, but together all the same.

However, having the bully and the nerd present also had its drawbacks; they could tell things were off. I'd get weird looks from them whenever an opportunity to be romantic or close to Phineas cropped up and I didn't jump on it with the same gusto I used to.

Naturally, Ferb observed everything with the same calm indifference as he always did when other people were around.

I had to give Ferb credit, though; he'd kept his word. He acted completely normal, the exact same way he'd always acted before he'd kissed me. We hung out. When we were alone, we bantered with the same enthusiasm we always did.

Phineas was, well, Phineas. Fun-loving, ingenious, and oblivious to any tension or differences in behavior.

Summer was fun. Days were seized. Normalcy was achieved. So of course that's when everything had to be shaken up.

During dinner one night, my mom surprised me with wonderful news.

"Your cousin Daniela had her baby! She was shopping in the supermarket and her water broke. Two hours later little Camilla Garcia was born."

"It was a girl?" I squealed. "Oh, mama, that's wonderful!"

"Si. Can you believe it—tu prima, having a baby? It seems like just yesterday she was three!"

"That's so awesome! Is the baby healthy?"

"Si, si, si, all healthy. It was a complication-free birth. But there is one problem. Her husband couldn't get any time off of work, and Daniela said she could use some help during these next couple weeks."

I scrunched my eyebrows, unsure of where this was going. "So… what does that mean?"

"I said I'd go up there and help her. It might be for two to three weeks."

"Two to three weeks? I mean, I want to see the baby, but I didn't even think they had room for us. That's a lot of time, and only a little bit of space to be cramped up in."

"You're right, Isa," my mom said, putting her hand on top of mine. "Daniela's apartment is too small for both of us to visit, and too far to make trips back and forth to sleep here. That's why I was going to go while you stayed here."

"What?" I couldn't believe what I'd heard; my mother was leaving her seventeen-year-old daughter home alone for two(ish) weeks?

"That way you don't miss any time with your friends," Mom added on. Then, as if she read my mind, "but don't worry, mija, you won't be here alone."

"I won't?" She could tell I was still confused, and started rubbing small circles on the back of my hand.

"I talked to Linda and Lawrence earlier today. They said they'd be happy to have you."

_Wait, WHAT? _I tried to control my expression, but a wave of panic swelled up inside of me. Panic, which slowly morphed to include excitement, terror, and something like giddy anticipation.

"You're close to home in case you need anything, and my beautiful daughter won't be spending nights alone in a dark house."

I could tell this was pretty much a done deal, and I didn't want my mom to worry, so I smiled and agreed to her plan. After all, there wasn't a real issue. An extended sleepover at Phineas and Ferb's house? That should be fun. Insanely awkward, but fun.

She told me she was leaving for Eastern Tri-State area tomorrow.

So much for normal.

* * *

><p><em>RR please!_

_Yes indeed… Isabella will be staying with Phineas and Ferb! Let the real fireworks begin!_


	12. Welcome

_Well, I'm really excited because this story has a little bit of support. A couple favs and a couple follows. Yay! I've got the next few chapters written, but like to make sure everything is consistent. Thus, I wait until I'm three to four chapter ahead before posting the next one on here. That, and I'm pretty critical about my writing, and never think it's good enough, so I obsess over trying to improve it. Sooooo… without further ado, here is chapter twelve._

_Disclaimer: I do not own Phineas and Ferb._

* * *

><p>CHAPTER TWELVE:<p>

Welcome

**FERB**

I almost choked on Mum's shepherd's pie, coughing sporadically before swallowing the hot lump of chicken, vegetables and gravy. I grabbed my glass of water and took a hard gulp, pounding on my chest twice. When I looked up from my plate, the entire dinner table was staring at me with confused and alarmed faces.

"Ferb, sweetie, are you alright?"

I nodded my head and cleared my throat, focusing on regaining my composure. I never talked at the dinner table, but this moment was so out there, that I deigned to break that tradition; "sorry Mum," I coughed, "I just—I'm not sure I heard you correctly."

"I said," she began again, scooping up another spoonful of delicious goop, "that Vivian's niece had a baby. She's going to be helping out up on the eastern side, so Isabella will be staying with us for the next few weeks or so."

_Ah, _so I had heard correctly… Honestly, I had no clue where to go with that.

"That sounds like fun!" Phineas exclaimed before taking a drink of his milk.

"Of course _you're_ all for it," Candace said, giving Phineas one of her knowing smiles.

"Well, yeah, we're both all for it, right, Ferb?" Phineas laughed, the suggestive undertone to Candace's voice going right over his head.

I nodded, and Candace's gaze fell on me. I know the whole choking fiasco was definitely a change from my silent indifference, but what was with the suspicious stare?

"Jolly good show!" Dad enthused, taking a bite of steamed green beans.

"I'm happy you boys understand," remarked Mum. "It's way better than having a young girl stay in a house by herself for so long. I know we live in a pretty safe neighborhood, but you just never know. Plus, it'll be fun."

Phineas beamed at me. "I guess I know what we're going to do tomorrow, eh, Ferb?"

* * *

><p><strong>ISABELLA<strong>

"Well, sweetheart, you already know where the kitchen is, of course," Mrs. Flynn-Fletcher chuckled as we made our way up to the stairs. "But if you ever need anything, don't hesitate to ask. Any of us will be delighted to help you."

"Thanks, Mrs. Flynn-Fletcher," I said with a laugh, following after her with a small duffle bag over my arm.

"Honestly, Isabella, you've known me for twelve years. How many times do I have to tell you to call me Linda. Please," she sighed with mock exasperation.

I laughed again; that had always been a running battle between us, but I suppose if I was going to be staying here for an extended period of time, I should respect her wishes.

"Now, Candace is using our guest bedroom in the basement," Mrs. Fly—_Linda _continued. "But the boys have agreed to share a room for the duration of your stay. You'll be sleeping in Ferb's room while the boys crash in Phineas'."

I was completely and utterly taken aback by the swell of giddiness inside of me when she said I was staying in Ferb's room. Jeese, what was happening to me?

"Thanks," I responded as I walked into the Brit's familiar bedroom. I hoped beyond hope that my face wasn't red. None of the other Flynn-Fletchers knew how much time I'd actually spent here, talking to Ferb. I tossed my bag on the bedspread and sat down, tracing its diamond stitching with a well-known movement of my fingers. "This is perfect."

"Don't worry," Linda said from the door. "I made sure to change the sheets and everything. It's all clean."

"Thanks," I said again, lying back so that my legs were hanging off the bed at my knee. I sighed with content, and Linda left.

After a few minutes, I swung around so I was lying on the bed like a normal person. I pulled the pillow under my head and took a deep breath, but it smelled like laundry detergent instead of Ferb now… not that I cared, of course.

"_What is going on?_" I groaned into the fabric. For the past three weeks, I'd tried to act normal. I'd taken a step back from Phineas to just enjoy life in general. But as soon as I took a step back from Phineas, I started noticing Ferb more and more.

Phineas was the idea man. He was brilliant, optimistic, and creative. He was outspoken and confident. Ferb was a man of action, like Phineas had claimed years ago. He was building and making things happen, often outshined and forgotten.

I felt an overwhelming amount of guilt. I loved Ferb; he was one of my best friends, and he was always there for me, but even I was negligent when it came to him. Sometimes I addressed only Phineas when they were both there, or when complimenting creations, I would forget to include him in my praise.

What kind of friend did that?

I felt so stupid for never noticing all the older brother did, and I was sad, because everyone else did it too. Everyone looked past Ferb and straight to Phineas. I couldn't imagine how that felt.

And now I finally recognize the extent of his worth, but couldn't necessarily act on that, because it might give Ferb a false sense of hope about the two of us.

But was it even false? I had felt something when he kissed me. I felt something when he made me laugh. Was it possible to like two guys at once? I mean, sure, I'd read about it in books and seen it in movies, but I'd never actually experienced it.

"Hey, Isabella!" Phineas exclaimed, bounding into the room and jumping on the bed. Ferb approached more casually, saluting me from the door.

"Hey," I responded, banishing the more depressing thoughts of the past few minutes.

"We're both really excited you're staying here," Phineas said, grabbing my wrists and pulling me off the bed. "Follow us, and we'll show you how much!"

"What?" I asked as Phineas dragged me to the door. I met Ferb's eyes as I passed and he shot me a look that said, _just go with it._

Phineas pulled me to the backyard, where there was a banner that said, _Welcome, Isabella! _In front of it was a stack of board games and movies. There was a table set up next to the tree with pink bowls filled with food.

"Tada!" he exclaimed, a giant smile on his face. "It's a welcome party for you!"

I took in the sight in front of me, and had to resist the urge to cry. I seriously had the best best friends ever.

"Guys, this is so sweet!"

"Well," Phineas said, rubbing the back of his neck, "we wanted to make sure you knew we were happy to have you. I was going to go all out. You know, giant neon signs and maybe a castle, or something. But Ferb said you'd like something a little quainter, and I figured he was probably right."

I took a step forward, taking in the stack of games and movies; all of my all-time favorites were here. The banner had the visible streaks of a hand-held brush, and was tied up with a couple simple bungee cords. The bowls held my favorite snacks.

"This… this is perfect." I turned around and pulled both guys into a giant hug. "Thank you so much!"

"The party has arrived!" Said a new higher-pitched voice. Baljeet opened the gate and walked in with Buford. I smiled at the newcomers and went to hug them.

"You know," Buford grumbled, addressing Phineas, "when you said there'd be a little party, I didn't realize it'd be so girly and touchy-feely."

"Don't worry, Buford," I giggled. "Your street cred will remain intact."

For the rest of the daylight hours, we played board games, ate food, and hung out. It was something that everyday, run-of-the mill teenagers would do, which meant it was beyond weird for us, but I loved it. Once the sun began setting, Buford and Baljeet started home, and I reveled in the realization that I didn't have to.

Dinner was next. Mr. Flynn-Fletcher—I suppose I should start calling him Lawrence—and Linda were pleasant, Phineas was engaging, and Ferb was quiet, but Candace was… odd. She kept giving me this mischievous smile and making comments like, _is it a little chilly in here?_ Eventually Linda sent her to away to get a jacket, since she kept commenting on the temperature. I just chose to ignore her; it wasn't worth exploring further.

After dinner, Phineas proclaimed that it was time for movies, and I picked one at random from the stack they'd made, since I knew I already loved them all. While Phineas set it up, I ran to the bathroom. When I returned, I couldn't believe the situation in front of me.

A year ago, the Flynn-Fletchers had replaced their thirteen-year-old ratty couch with a plush sectional. It had a couple of loveseats divided by squishy armrests. It was really nice, but just became the bane of my existence.

Phineas and Ferb sat on two separate sides. There was plenty of room beside either boy. And I would have to choose which brother to sit next to.

This would be an interesting few weeks.

* * *

><p><em>RR please!_

_I know this one wasn't as fun, but the next chapter will definitely make up for it (evil snicker). I think you guys will like it. Anyhoo, I'm happy that I have a little smidge of support, but I can't tell what you guys are thinking if you just hit follow. Thus, I humbly request a review._

_Keep an eye out for the next chapter! It'll have that shipping stuff that you guys desire!_

_Have a happy day!_


	13. Encounters

_To my reviewers, thank you! Especially to Enula, who has reviewed every chapter. I love knowing what you guys think! Here's the next chapter I promised you! Hope you like it._

_Also, some of you felt like Ferb talks too much; I don't disagree. I know I have him talk a lot, but I'm also very careful about WHEN he talks. The only time that he talks, really, is when he and Isabella are alone. Otherwise, he'll say a few words to Phineas here and there. When in groups, I leave him as his silent, gesticulating self. He talks only with Isabella, which I think is sweet. I touch on it in this chapter, but felt like articulating that here, too. Enjoy!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Phineas and Ferb_

* * *

><p>CHAPTER THIRTEEN:<p>

Encounters

**FERB**

Having Isabella live with us was interesting to say the least. The couch fiasco—to which she stared at us frenetically before taking a seat on the floor—was only the first of many awkward encounters.

The week started with a bang; I'd walked in on Isabella while she was changing.

I'd needed a charger from my room, and didn't know she was in there. I had knocked anyway, but there wasn't a response, so I strolled on in, only to find she'd had headphones on and hadn't heard me. Her new top was mostly on, so I didn't see much, but I'm pretty sure both of our faces were blood red the rest of the day.

In retrospect, it was an omen. The next four days were permeated with similar events.

Phineas slid down the railing of the stairs just as Isabella rounded the corner, and he crashed into her. They went sprawling in a tangle of limbs until they landed, Phineas on top of her and nose-to-nose. Both were blushing like mad, much to my displeasure.

Late one night, I made my way down the stairs for a midnight snack, only to find Isabella had had the same idea. It would have been fine if not for the fact that I'd just gotten out of the shower, was still wet, and was only dressed in a pair of boxers. Neither of us were quite sure what to do with that encounter, so I slowly retreated back up the stairs.

Worst of all was when Candace, in an attempt to play matchmaker, sent Isabella and Phineas to go to the grocery store together, while having the "massive emergency" of needing me to fix her printer. She wasn't excluding me out of malice; she thought she was helping Isabella out. Still, it made me want to spray her with printer ink.

That last one with Candace wasn't as awkward as the others, but it was the worst because it acted as a reminder of something I'd been trying to ignore; everybody loved the idea of Isabella and my brother. It was expected and supported. In the eyes of the world, they were meant to be.

That bothered me more than I'd like to admit.

But of course, life continued. It was now day five of Isabella staying with us, and after the eventful first few days, Isabella was on edge.

Whenever Phineas or I were brought up, her cheeks turned pink. It wasn't obvious. Rather, it was only noticeable if you searched for it, but at least it was a reaction, right? She used to only do that for Phineas.

Sadly, with the rosy cheeks came embarrassment, and Isabella started avoiding one-on-one time with either of us. She kept things in a group setting, all three of us. That, of course, meant I kept quiet.

I tried not to read into how much I talked to her. It was strange. I was silent in groups and had my one-liners with Phineas, but I actually _talked_ to Isabella. We had full-blown conversations. Phineas was my best friend, which was why he got some of my words on a few rare occasions. Isabella was something else altogether.

For as much as Phineas was ragged on for being oblivious, I was guilty of it too. Isabella had always been special. She was the only person I'd ever fully and freely spoken to. Honestly, that should have been the biggest indicator of my growing feelings. It should have been obvious.

But I tried to keep my promise to her; I tried to act completely normal.

Just like old times, Buford and Baljeet decided to sleep over too. It was late, and the night was winding down, so we put on_ Space Adventure IV: Return of the Adventurers in Space_. The bully and nerd sat on one half of the couch, so Phineas, Isabella, and I were all squished onto the other. And of course, the lovely lady was in the middle.

Honestly, the Space Adventure Saga had dwindled in their appeal to me, growing into a massively overdone franchise, but Phineas loved them still. They spoke to his adventurous side, and I liked how happy they made him. Thus, I never protested when he put them on. I just watched the simulated space story with apathy.

Halfway through the movie, I felt a weight on my shoulder; Isabella had fallen asleep. A sigh of contentment left her lips and a flash of a smile graced mine. I looked down, soaking in the sight of her sleeping on me. Her hair fell over her shoulders and face in an ebony cascade, and the color from the screen lit up her skin in odd and beautiful ways.

Damn, I could get used to this feeling. It was dangerously intoxicating, but letting that show was just as dangerous. Thus, I forced my eyes back to the movie. As it progressed, Isabella kept snuggling closer. Her arm wrapped around mine, like she were hugging it, and she nuzzled into my shoulder until I felt her hair tickling my neck.

I tried not to look into it too much; it wasn't like she could control what she did in her sleep, but it still made my stomach go through the usual flips and flops. I knew I liked her, but I was unprepared for the flurry of emotions something as simple as this created in me.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Buford nudge Baljeet, nodding his head in my direction. I tried to ignore their snickers; they were probably just jealous.

Eventually, their whispers registered with Phineas, who shushed them. He glanced from me to them, then snapped back to me in a double take. I tried to focus on the screen, where the hero was bravely flying his ship through an asteroid field, but my brother's stare was so intense, I had to look over at him.

The T.V. cast half his face in shadows, but it was impossible to miss his wide eyes, completely and utterly surprised. I tried not to feel smug—it wasn't really my style—but something about this moment validated all of my feelings for the girl on my shoulder.

I raised my eyebrow at him; _something wrong?_

He shook his head quickly, and turned back to the T.V. His lips were pressed tightly together and he was uncharacteristically still, but if I analyzed things too much, I'd go crazy.

Isabella made a small noise in her sleep and pulled her legs up onto the couch. I took the opportunity to put my arm around her when she shifted, and she snuggled into the crux between my shoulder and chest. After a second, one of her hands grabbed the front of my shirt, and she sighed again.

Now she was fully pressed into my side, snuggled up on my chest, and actually holding on to me. All the eyes in the room moved back to my face, and I fought to keep up my normal composure. I had to literally bite my tongue to keep from smiling; I absolutely loved how this felt.

Isabella stayed asleep like that for the rest of the movie. Once it was over, Buford and Baljeet started setting up blankets on the floor, and Phineas stood up to eject the disk. He seemed to be going out of his way to not look at me, but I once again chose not to analyze.

With an incredible amount of reluctance, I shook Isabella's shoulder. She muttered something that sounded like _no, let me sleep,_ then my name, and I once again bit back my smile; she knew she was asleep on _me_. She knew, and wanted to stay there.

"Isabella, you slept through the movie," I said gently, shaking her shoulder again. "Now it's time to go to bed."

Buford and Baljeet froze and stared at me. Phineas did too, almost fumbling the movie disk. They looked completely taken aback, not that I could blame them; two full sentences might have been normal when I was with Isabella, but to everyone else, it was like I'd just given a speech.

In all honesty, I'd forgotten they were there and could hear me, but the shock-factor was surprisingly satisfying.

Then Phineas dropped the DVD case, and Isabella sat up with a start, rubbing her eyes.

"Wait," she muttered, still drowsy, "is the movie over?"

"You slept through it," Phineas said with an almost… harsh tone? Luckily, it went completely over Isabella's head.

"Oops," she yawned, taking in the boys in front of her. "Why are you staring?"

In response, Buford and Baljeet hastily went back to setting up their makeshift bed. Isabella looked at me questioningly, but after she took in our proximity and her position, she put two and two together.

Then she gave me one of the sweetest and most shy smiles I'd ever seen.

"Sorry about that, Ferb. I didn't realize how tired I was." She slid off the couch and straightened out her clothes. After a second of stretching, she helped finish setting up the sleeping arrangements, and some of the awkwardness dissolved.

Buford and Baljeet scrambled to the kitchen for a.m. hour snacks. Phineas looked like he was going to follow, but seemed to think better of it, and stayed with us. He was fidgeting with the DVD case, and I couldn't shake the feeling he didn't want to leave Isabella and I alone.

"Sorry I passed out, Phineas," Isabella sighed, stretching again.

"It's okay, Isabella," Phineas said with a rough attempt at his usual chipper tone. "I think _Space Adventure III: Space Revenge of the Anti-Adventure_ is better anyway."

* * *

><p><strong>ISABELLA<strong>

Day six at the Flynn-Fletcher's rolled around, and not one of them so far had been without some awkward interaction. I was just rooting for an ordinary day, one with impossible machines and the defiance of rules of nature. Normal, run of the mill stuff like that.

It looked like I was going to get it.

The city wanted a revamped transit system, and Phineas and Ferb jumped at the opportunity to use their creative skills for a good cause. By the end of the day, the post offices had a mail system run with hovercraft technology and laser optics, and the trucks had a new paintjob.

Needless to say, we were exhausted by the time we were done, and looking forward to a relaxing evening.

Phineas was acting weird, though. The second I recommended watching a movie he shot it down, giving me a look I didn't really understand. Even more out of character, when asked what he wanted to do instead, he said he was drawing blanks.

Thus, the two brothers and I split up for a night pursuing self-interests. I wasn't complaining; maybe then I'd get my wish of a day without embarrassment or awkward encounters.

I was so close to achieving that goal; it was 11:37 p.m., and everyone else was in bed. I was grabbing a glass of water, going to the restroom, and then calling it a night. I was so very, very close.

But of course, my luck wouldn't hold.

I walked out of the downstairs bathroom to find Ferb waiting for me in the hall. He was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and a cool look on his face; he was the epitome of suave ennui.

I glanced left and right, but of course we were alone in the hall. Candace was in the basement, and everyone else was upstairs, most likely asleep. It was just the two of us.

Before I saw him, I'd closed the bathroom door behind me, but I was starting to regret that; my back was already pressed against it, and now there was no room for retreat. Ferb would never want to make me uncomfortable, but I still felt cornered.

"Hey?" I half-said, half-asked. I tried to put a really light and joking tone to my voice, but Ferb remained unfazed.

He just stood there like a tall, green-haired statue in pajamas. His stare was intent and unnerving, and not once did it waver from mine. A solid minute passed—though it felt like even longer—before he finally spoke.

"Are we ever going to talk about this?"

* * *

><p><em>RR please!_

_So, I know I'm not the best with cliffhangers, but I felt this was a good place to leave it. Next up: they talk. Naturally. But will they do… more than talk? Tune in next time to see!_

_Same bat time, same bat channel!_

_And yes, I know I don't have a set schedule for updating, but for those who appreciated that reference, I love you!_

_Lilly is out, peace! … … … And have a happy day!_


	14. Nervous

_Once again, to those that have reviewed, I love you guys! Seriously, it makes me so happy! I fangirl! Yay!_

_ And while I appreciate the support, I have to level with a few of you guys… if you admittedly hate Ferbella, this isn't the story for you. If Ferbella makes your skin crawl, I cannot, on good graces, expect you to keep reading this :) I truly do appreciate the review and the love; I just don't want to waste anyone's time._

_Enjoy this… heated discussion._

_Disclaimer: I do not own Phineas and Ferb._

* * *

><p>CHAPTER FOURTEEN:<p>

Different

**ISABELLA**

_Are we ever going to talk about this?_

I never knew so few words could cause so much panic. I didn't think I could talk about this yet. Literally, I could not talk about this! The second he said those words, it felt like there were a hundred little Isabellas running around in my head yelling _mayday, mayday!_

It was like a fuse had been blown in my mind; I could practically feel my brain shorting out. A dozen possibilities swooshed in at once; I wanted to wrap my arms around him, I wanted to run and hide, I wanted to kiss him, I wanted to become a nun and swear off boys and complications forever.

I didn't know how to handle this!

My tongue felt like wet cement in my mouth, and all I could manage was a weak attempt at playing dumb.

"This?"

"Us," he responded just as coolly. "Are we ever going to talk about us?"

God, that didn't help anything. The Isabellas were now screaming,_ say something, say something! _That was easier mentally screamed than done, though; his gaze made my throat feel dry. I managed to open my mouth, but there was no sound.

Unfazed by my internal struggle, Ferb spoke again.

"It's been a month since I kissed you. Are we ever going to talk about that either?"

Finally, my mind reached into my memory banks and latched on to something I could use.

"I thought you said the ball was on my side of the court," I responded. I crossed my arms and tried to look casual, but I'm pretty sure it was unconvincing, because he smirked.

"I know."

"Well, isn't the point of the ball metaphor and that whole, 'what you do with it is up to you,' thing that _I _got to choose when—_if_—I did something about it?"

"That was the general implication, yes." He still hadn't moved from his indifferent wall-lean, and it was starting to get intimidating, but I swallowed hard.

"Well, if I haven't done anything, isn't _that_ still up to me? If I haven't done anything, isn't that sort of an answer?"

"See, but you have done something."

"I—what?"

"You've changed," he stated. Something about his tone made me feel defensive.

"No, I haven't. I'm just _me_. Just Isabella."

His smile softened, and he took a step forward. He finally uncrossed his arms, and his hand moved to my cheek. Despite the fact that my face was hot and probably bright red, his hand felt warm, and I found myself leaning into the touch.

"_Just_ Isabella doesn't cover it," he purred. His voice was low and had a racy edge to it, and I tried to ignore the pleasant chill running up my spine.

"But we're supposed to be acting normal," I reminded him. "Remember, that's what we agreed on. Normal."

"But you haven't been. Not really."

I opened my mouth to protest, but no words came out.

"You don't swoon over Phineas like you used to," he continued. "Like you _normally_ would. You're antsy and on edge. I've seen you glancing my way while we're working on projects."

"I—"

"Your cheeks turn pink in that cute way they do, but—much to my surprise—not necessarily when Phineas is around. You've been avoiding alone time with me, and then you… you fell asleep on me instead of Phineas."

"I wasn't avoiding you," was all I could mutter. He watched me for what felt like forever. I was worried he'd get mad at me for lying, since I definitely _had_ been avoiding one-on-one encounters like this.

What did his quiet British accent sound like when he was angry? When he spits, _BS_ at my obvious lie? The world may never know, because when he finally spoke, his voice was maybe the softest I'd ever heard it.

"Yes you were, but it's okay."

That took me a second to process. I wasn't entirely sure I heard him right. "It's… what?"

"It's okay that you were avoiding me," he repeated. Then he deigned to laugh. "I'm actually quite fine with it."

My eyes bore into his, trying to draw any semblance of sense out of them to help me understand what he meant. True to form, Ferb was unreadable.

"Why would you be fine with that?" I finally asked. I knew that he had manipulated the conversation, bating me into asking that question, but I couldn't resist! I had to know.

"Because I get it. I know _why_ you are."

Once again, he was goading me, making me ask for what he meant. What's sad was that it was definitely working. _Damn genius._

"Why?" I asked as evenly possible; I didn't want to add to his victory by losing my cool.

"Because I make you nervous."

"No you don't," I snapped back. It was a knee-jerk response, and was the farthest thing from the truth right now, but I didn't know what to do with the fact that he could read me so well. Even as I said it, my hands were balled into fists to keep from messing with the sleeves on my robe.

"Uh huh," he said, unconvinced. His eyes gleamed with mischief in a way that made my heart race with both worry and excitement. He took another small step forward, and there was less than a foot between us now. His hand slid from my cheek down my neck, his fingers running along my pulse and across my collarbone. "So I don't make you nervous at all?"

My skin tingled where he touched, and I shivered. My hands clamped down on the ends of my sleeves involuntarily, and I bit my lip, hoping he wouldn't notice. To top it all off, by breathing hitched. God, this couldn't be more embarrassing.

I turned my head toward the stairs in an attempt to avoid his eyes. If need be, I could try to make a run for it, but that would be all the answer he needed.

No, I wouldn't dignify his question with an answer—not that I actually needed a verbal one for him to know he was right. I could at least try to hold on to a faint glimmer of my poise.

"So?" I asked as defensively as possible, still not looking at him.

"So, what?"

"Where are you going with this?"

"None of those things qualify as what I would have called _normal_ for you." His hand moved back up to my cheek, moving my face so my gaze met his again.

"I-I know, but…" What would I say? That I liked him? Even if I did, that didn't mean I could just forget about Phineas.

"But what?" Ferb queried.

_When in doubt, restate what you know_. "But you said the ball was on my side of the court. Aren't you going against that by pushing this with me?"

"I know I said that. I know. But I doubt you'd ever bring it up unless I confronted you like this. Had things gone back to the way they were before, I wouldn't have bothered. I promise I would have dropped it, but the fact is that things _are_ different now."

"I don't—"

"_This_," he motioned back and forth between us with the hand that wasn't on my cheek, "is different. Our interactions, everything. So tell me, Bella, what's a guy to think?"

I had no clue how to respond to that. It wasn't that my mind was in a panic, like it was when he first approached me. I genuinely had no response.

He was right. I couldn't just ignore this when things hadn't gone back to normal, but I also didn't know what to tell him. Things weren't black and white, cut and dry. It didn't matter that I simply liked him; there were other factors involved.

So, awkward as it was, I didn't say a word.

I let this new nickname, _Bella_, flitter around my mind instead of overthinking everything. I looked up into his dark blue eyes, and appreciated the warmth of his hand on my cheek.

My hand trailed up his outstretched arm, my fingers grazing his wrist before resting on top of his.

He didn't move closer or anything, but who knew what would have happened in the next few seconds, if not for the floorboard creaking to the left of us.

Both Ferb and I's heads snapped to the side, meeting the eyes of a _very _stunned redhead.

* * *

><p><em>RR please!_

_Your reviews are equal parts wonderful (I love the response!) and terrifying (I never know what I'll get)! I appreciate the suggestions I've received but naturally this will go where my fingers point it. Specific ideas are welcome and considered (with credit if it makes it in the story), because I know you guys have great ideas._

_And have fun with that cliffhanger XD._

_Hats off to those who got the 1966 Batman reference._

_Lilly is out, peace!_


	15. Impressions

_I was three chapters ahead of this one when I realized I left you guys with a pretty wicked cliffhanger. Thus, I took mercy upon you, my lovely readers, and decided to post a new chapter despite the fact that I just posted one four days ago. I'm tempted just to mass post, but I was advised against that by some of the more seasoned writers on this site, so I'll stick with their advice._

_For those who review, thank you, thank you, thank you! For those who have __favorites/followed, you rock! For those who have done so, but that haven't left a review, I'd love to know your thoughts!_

_In a review, one of you mentioned you had some questions about my writing style, and asked if I'd email you, but you left no email and don't have one set up on your account; thus, I cannot get ahold of you. I have PM set up on my account, so I'd be happy to answer any questions if you messaged me._

_Warning: Due to the point of view, there are a few more cuss words than normal. Otherwise, enjoy!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Phineas and Ferb._

* * *

><p>CHAPTER FIFTEEN:<p>

Impressions

**CANDACE**

When I walked up the stairs to brush my teeth, the absolute last thing I expected to hear was the rare sound of my stepbrother's voice.

"…everything. So tell me, Bella, what's a guy to think?"

My brain wasn't working as fast as my feet. I had only begun to process the question, _Bella_? before I'd already walked out of the basement stairwell and into the hall.

Now before I go any further, let me point out the irony here… I spent many years of my life trying to bust my brothers. Every attempt failed.

Now, when I was a college student worrying about exams, scholarships, and when my stupid boyfriend of seven years would finally propose, I'd given up on busting. Wholeheartedly surrendered the notion.

And then I'd busted Phineas.

And now I'd busted Ferb.

Where was the justice in that?

I couldn't quite understand what I saw, but one thing was clear; I had _definitely_ interrupted something.

Isabella stood with her back pressed against the bathroom door, the bottom of the sleeves of her fuzzy pink bathrobe balled up in her hands. Her eyes never wavered from Ferb, who stood a mere eight inches in front of her. His hand cupped her cheek, his thumb tracing small circles just under her eye.

They still hadn't seen me, and after a second, Isabella's hand drifted up to rest on his.

He was maybe a head taller than her, but they held each other's gazes with such fierceness that I felt almost… guilty to be witnessing it. I'd never seen Ferb so gentle and yet so stern, somehow calm and upset at once, with some message I couldn't quite understand in his glower.

Anomalous was too mild of a word.

My mind went completely blank save for one thought; _what the hell is going on between _these_ two? _The question ricocheted around in my brain violently, but I couldn't bring myself to voice it.

I was overwhelmed with the desire to retreat to the basement, but that became impossible once a floorboard creaked under my foot.

Both teenagers' heads snapped in my direction, lighting up in alarm when they registered my intrusion.

I could do nothing but stare back. Some part in the back of my mind noted that Ferb still hadn't moved his hand from Isabella's cheek. They hadn't taken a step away from each other. We all just stood there, frozen.

My eyes darted from Ferb's shocked face to Isabella's. I'd clearly interrupted one heck of a conversation, one where Ferb—_Ferb_, of all people_—_was _talking_.

My toothbrush suddenly felt heavy in my hand, and I remembered why I'd come up in the first place. I brandished the tool lamely.

"I was—I just needed—It's-it's not… Never mind!"

I turned and rushed back down the stairs. I ran into the guest room that acted as my temporary refuge and shut the door behind me. From there, I leaned against its wooden frame, listening.

After around ten seconds, I heard the subtle groans that meant one person had run up the stairs. Another fifteen seconds passed, and I heard the sound of a second. I couldn't tell who had left first, my brother or Isabella, but they'd gone to bed now.

I lied down on the bed and pulled my comforter to my chin, but my mind was reeling with questions. Mostly, _what the hell did I just walk in on?_ Ferb and Isabella? Or, _Bella_, as he'd called her? That just couldn't be possible.

They both had looked so intent, so captivated with each other, but there couldn't be anything going on between them, right? Isabella had loved Phineas for twelve years now; that much had always been obvious.

I suppose Ferb had acted edgy when I'd sent Phineas and Isabella to the supermarket earlier this week. I'd assumed that it was because he was grappling with the possibility of becoming a third wheel if things happened between his two friends, but what if it was because of something else altogether?

What if he, Ferb Fletcher, liked Isabella? That wasn't possible. That couldn't be possible. And yet…?

The next morning, I tried to talk to Ferb, but that was easier said than done.

The devious little Brit had managed to evade me five times. Two of those times were skill (he'd slipped into a room with dad or something right when I was swooping in), but three of them were just dumb luck in the form of Mom popping up and needing something.

Then Ferb left the house completely, leaving a note on the counter that said he was going out for the day with a friend who was visiting from Britain.

It was so frustrating! The boys knew about my curious nature, my desire to _know_. I'd just had the golden carrot dangled in front of my nose, but there was nothing I could do about it?

I suppose I could talk to Isabella, but she was avoiding me too. In fact, she hadn't even left Ferb's room yet—something that was definitely unexpected. Plus, it was a little weirder since we weren't actually related. She had no familial obligation to talk to me. I figured it would be better to not even go there.

Instead, I poured myself a second cup of coffee in the kitchen and mulled over my next plan of attack.

"Hi, Candace!" Phineas exclaimed, popping up beside me. I jolted, but quickly regained my composure.

"Hey," I smiled at my younger brother.

Phineas had grown into a handsome young man, but was still filled with so much child-like wonder. It used to bother me unlike any other, but that feeling had dwindled these past couple of years. Phineas never let anything affect him or get him down; I admired that.

"Do you know where Ferb is?" he asked. "I haven't seen him or Isabella all morning."

Little alarm bells started tolling in my head. Something was off about the tone of his voice. Did he suspect anything between Ferb and Isabella too?

"Ferb left a note. He said he has a friend in town and is spending the day with them. Isabella's still in her bedroom."

I carefully studied his expression, watching it change from distraught to relieved. The idea of Ferb and Isabella off together bothered him, that much was clear.

"Oh, yeah. I forgot. It's his cousins, right? That makes sense."

He looked out the window, scratching his ear absentmindedly. Something was definitely up between the three teenagers. I wouldn't be Candace Flynn if I didn't get to the bottom of it.

"Ferb talks to you about stuff, right?" I leaned against the kitchen counter casually.

"Of course," he said cheerfully. "As much as Ferb talks, that is. Most of the time it's like we're playing a game of charades. But yeah, he always tells me stuff."

"So has he ever told you that he likes anybody?"

"Likes anybody?"

"You know," I sighed at my brother's obliviousness, "_likes_ anybody. Romantically."

"Well, yeah," Phineas responded easily. He crossed to the fridge and pulled out the carton of milk. "He used to have the biggest crush on this girl named Vanessa, but I think she was your age. It never went anywhere."

Vanessa, as in that goth chick? Huh… that was… odd, but entirely beside the point. "That was years ago. I'm talking about more recently. Has he come to you about anything?"

"No, but…" His intuitive eyes considered me, and a sly smile spread on his lips. "Candace, do _you_ think he likes somebody?"

Oops. _Backtrack! Backtrack! _"I don't know," I laughed as collectedly as possible, but he wasn't completely convinced.

"_Candace,_" Phineas practically whined. I had forgotten that Phineas' curious side was even stronger than mine. For him, not knowing something resulted in a crazy machine or scheme to find out no matter the cost. I had to diffuse this.

"I was just wondering," I commented casually. "Ferb is an enigma to me. He's a good-looking eighteen-year-old, a freaking genius, and has an accent that would drive any teenage girl wild."

"So?"

"So I was just curious if one had caught his eye. That's all."

"You know," Phineas rubbed his chin contemplatively, "Ferb has been acting a little… weird lately."

"How so?" I asked, leaning closer.

"He's been spending a lot of time with Isabella, and I think they've been talking. Like, _actually_ talking."

"Yeah?"

"I mean, it's surprising how much closer they've been acting when we're working on projects and stuff."

It was so hard waiting for the pieces to click in that romantically challenged brain of his. I could see he was so close to realizing what was going on, if only he'd finally put it together.

And he wasn't. He wasn't putting it together. Gah! I wasn't built to be patient!

"So Ferb's been spending a lot of time with Isabella, huh?" I said as suggestively as possible.

"Yeah," he said, still smiling.

"They seem closer?"

"Uh huh."

He stared at me for a few seconds, but I bit my tongue. Waiting… _waiting_…

Suddenly, he stood up straight, his eyes sparking with realization.

"That's it!" he exclaimed, pounding his fist in his hand. "Ferb's odd behavior, the sudden affection between him and Isabella… It all makes sense now!"

"_And…_" I prompted again, leaning even closer. Finally, _finally_! Phineas Flynn had a breakthrough.

"Ferb likes a girl, and is getting advice from Isabella!"

I almost fell over.

"I can't believe I didn't realize it sooner!" he continued. "It explains everything. They've been acting normal, but also… _closer _at the same time. The compliments, the glances, the whole cuddling on the couch thing—"

I almost had coffee come out of my nose. "Cuddling on the couch thing?"

"It would make sense that they'd grow closer. I mean, it's practically a scientific fact that secrets and advice giving creates a bond between people."

"Scientific fact? Phineas, you do realize—"

"And since Ferb is getting advice from Isabella, they're becoming better friends!"

"Well, that's not quite what I—"

"It all makes sense!" Phineas exclaimed again, hugging me. "Thanks, Candace. You always know what's going on." He pulled back and beamed at me, and I could do nothing but stare back.

Really, this was all my fault. I should have known he'd get the wrong impression; I never should have underestimated my younger brother's skills for being oblivious.

"I can't believe I was ever upset with them. Isabella's just being there for Ferb. That's awesome." He finished his glass of milk and turned around to rinse it in the sink.

I faltered; what he said was slowly weaving its way across the synapses in my brain, setting off an alarm on its way; "wait, you were upset with them?"

"Well I was, but not anymore!" He put his glass in the dishwasher, and bounded towards the stairs. I raced after him and grabbed his wrist.

"Phineas, why were you upset with them?" I made sure every ounce of seriousness I possessed went into the question.

His cheeks turned a little red, but he shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. Something about how they'd been acting towards each other really bothered me. Honestly, Candace, I don't know why. It just did. But that's not an issue anymore."

With that, he went up the stairs, leaving me with one strong and foul thought: _oh shit_.

My relationship savvy brain had no trouble putting the pieces together.

_Isabella loves Phineas. Phineas, oblivious sweetheart that he is, unintentionally turns down Isabella for years. Ferb comforts the heartbroken Isabella. Isabella and Ferb become close friends. Ferb falls for said girl in the process of mending her heart time and time again. Ferb finally acts on those feelings. Isabella becomes confused. Things start happening there. Phineas starts noticing. Said oblivious redhead discovers he doesn't like it._

To top it all off, Phineas had just gained the entirely wrong impression about what was going on between his brother and best friend… accidental courtesy of me.

Yeah… _oh shit_ just about summed it up.

* * *

><p><em>RR please!_

_Well, there you go! It was fun writing as Candace. Kudos to those who figured it wasn't Phineas who walked in on them. How disastrous would that have been? XD No, giving Phineas that big of a nudge would destroy some of the tantalizing drama I have planned coming up (insert evil laugh here)._

_Anyhoo, your reviews make my day! I'm so happy when I see them!_

_By the way, let me just emphasize… Candace noted there was a whole ten seconds that passed before the first teenager (Ferb or Isabella) went upstairs..._

_What could have been done or said in those ten seconds?! (Dun dun duuuuun)_

_You'll find out soon enough._

_Random writer none of you know is out, peace!_


	16. Knock on Wood

_Yes, yes… I know Phineas was _very_ oblivious, but I still think it's within his character. He's so positive that it borders on naive (sweetheart that he is!) so his brain would automatically jump to the conclusion that has the least drama/is what he wants to hear. I face palmed with you, but it was fun to write._

_I updated quickly, but I had a writing spurt, and by the time I made it to chapter 21, I figured I might as well post. The chapter AFTER this, you get to find out what was said between Isabella and Ferb in those ten empty seconds… and chapter 20, things get PRETTY heated. I'm excited._

_To those who reviewed last chapter (sadly only three of you guys), you rock!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Phineas and Ferb._

* * *

><p>CHAPTER SIXTEEN:<p>

Knock on Wood

**ISABELLA**

It hadn't been hard to keep myself occupied while hiding out in Ferb's room; I was busy typing away on my computer.

I'd really come to love creative writing, especially after growing up with Phineas and Ferb. Our adventures made an excellent foundation for stories… even if I may have twisted a few things and played up the drama and romance.

Today, however, I was in the middle of a non-PnF story. It was a short and sad one in which I personified a swing set. It spoke of abandonment and deteriorating purpose, though I wasn't exactly sure what fueled my desire for such a depressing story.

At least the writing was doing its job for the morning: avoiding Candace. Much to my surprise, she hadn't come so far.

Knock on wood.

More specifically, there was a knock on the wood door, right as I thought that.

"Who is it?" I called out hesitantly.

"It's me," came Phineas' voice. "Can I come in?"

_At least it wasn't Candace_. "Sure thing, Phineas."

A second later, he opened the door and walked in.

"Good morning," I said cheerily, though my eyes still focused on the screen. He sat down next to me, but I was in the middle of the perfect thought. I was so close to getting my wording just right, and I had to get it down. "Hold up."

Phineas was never one to be patient, though. He had the brainpower and skill to get things done very quickly, and rarely had to wait; if something was in his way, he made a fun way around it.

He started playfully tugging on the ends of my hair.

"That's not going to work like it did when we were twelve, Phineas," I laughed, my fingers skidding across the keyboard.

"Oh come on!" He chuckled, letting the tips of my hair go.

"You can't rush me. I'm almost done."

He lied back on the bed, his arms propping up his head. "You're so serious."

"I just got a scene. I have to get it down!"

He sighed melodramatically, though I could tell he wasn't too bothered.

"Just a couple more minutes," I promised.

Precisely two minutes later, Phineas sat up, scooting closer to me and looking over my shoulder.

"_I knew how he saw me,_" his voice hummed. "_My bars were old and speckled, and it had been a long time since they'd held the weight of a child._ _Our voices were gone, withered and broken, but we still talked—him with gleam of light off his eyes, and me with the croaking tenor of my rusting chains._"

I slammed my computer lid shut, partially because I was self-conscious about people watching me write over my shoulder, and partially because I couldn't handle Phineas reading my words back to me, so close I could feel his breath on my neck.

"You're not supposed to read—"

"Isabella, that's amazing!" he exclaimed. I felt my cheeks heating up, though I wasn't sure if it was because of the compliment, or because Phineas was still so close, talking into my ear. "It sounded sad, though."

He finally met my gaze, and it seemed to dawn on him how close he actually was to me. He quickly sat back, but showed no signs of being nervous.

"It's from the perspective of a swing set," I clarified, just to have something to say.

"Personifying a swing set, huh?" His eyes glinted in that special way they did when he had a new Big Idea. "I think I know what we're going to do today!"

"Aren't you supposed to be telling that to Ferb?" I asked with a giggle.

"I would, but some of his cousins are in town, and he's spending the day with them."

"Oh, that's nice," I mumbled.

I'll admit I was a little sad Ferb wouldn't be with us all day, but no matter what complications were going on, we were all friends first. A day with Phineas was nothing to be sad about. In fact, it was something I'd wanted for years.

Carpe Diem, right?

"Yeah," Phineas sighed, "but I guess it puts a damper on my plans for an anthropomorphizing ray. Ferb wouldn't want to miss that."

His chin slumped onto his hand contemplatively, just like he'd done for years under the tree with his brother. I always thought he was cute when he did that, with that crease in his brow, and the way his lower lip stuck out just slightly.

The familiar move only served to remind me why I liked Phineas, which was extremely confusing right about now.

Being around the redhead felt so natural, so soothing. Things were easy around him. As of late, being around Ferb was the opposite; it made my heart jump in anxious, sporadic ways, our every interaction making a muddle of my mind.

"Well…" he started slowly, "I suppose we could just go to a real swing set. Poke around the park for the day." Surprise danced in my eyes, and he chuckled. "Yeah, I know it's pretty low-key, but it wouldn't feel right building something without Ferb."

A whole day with Phineas, hanging out together at the park? I could never pass up an offer like that.

"Okay. Just let me get dressed real quick." I kicked him out of the room and made my way to the closet. Ferb had cleared out half of it so I could bring some of my clothes over instead of making trips back and forth to my house.

I ran my hands over the colorful fabric, eventually landing on the yellow top I wore a month and a half ago, on the Valintaversary day. Phineas' favorite color… It was hanging right next to the red shirt Ferb had complimented when we were cutting out hearts, but I tried not to look at it.

I grabbed the bright blouse and slipped it on. I was debating between a cute white skirt or a pair of jeans, but since we were going to the park, I went with the latter. After tugging a brush through my tangled mane and tying in a yellow ribbon as a hairband, I zipped out the door.

I'd nearly crashed into Phineas, who was waiting on the other side, but he jumped back with a laugh.

"That was quick."

I smirked; rapid-fire getting ready was something a girl learned pretty quickly if she was going to survive as "one of the boys." Especially if one of those boys was Buford, who would rag on anything he deemed was "over-excessive girliness."

"I'm low maintenance," I quipped, clasping my hands behind my back and batting my eyelashes.

I hadn't tried to flirt with him in a while, and it was comforting. My brain calmed down from the chaos my life had been as of late, as if to say, _ah, yes… _this_ is familiar territory_. I flirted with Phineas. It was a quintessential part of being Isabella.

Phineas didn't notice my amorous tone of voice, but what else did I expect? That was the norm. I still wouldn't disappoint my younger self by not seizing such an awesome opportunity.

On the way out the door, I passed by Candace. I was worried she'd pull me aside to interrogate me about what she'd seen last night, but instead she shot me a look that I almost took as… apologetic?

I faltered for just a second, sending her a quizzical look of my own, but Phineas grabbed my wrist and tugged me along, discussing possible wiring issues we may encounter when we built the personifying laser.

We stopped on the front porch to take in the atmosphere; it was maybe the nicest day of summer yet! It was around seventy-five degrees and sunny, but there was a nice breeze that made the trees languidly sway as if waving hello. Kids passed by on bikes, adults were gardening, and, with the cheery redhead beside me, I couldn't wait to get out into the world.

We went to Danville Park and poked around a small playground for an hour, telling jokes and talking about future inventions. Eventually, we'd had our fair share of lazy swinging, and drifted into just walking around the park, ditching the sidewalks to stroll around the greenery.

Phineas did most of the talking, but I didn't mind; behind that child-like façade lingered many profound thoughts. It was worth listening to. The only person I knew who could rival, even beat, the redhead with that philosophical ingenuity was F—

_Don't go there, Isabella. Not right now._

Phineas recounted a story from last summer's engineer camp. It was one I'd heard quite a few times, but it was funny, and I loved how animated he got when he told it.

"And to this day," he laughed, "I have no idea why Ferb said that, or how Baljeet's underwear got all the way—"

He stopped walking and smiled. I stopped too, waiting for him to finish. When he didn't I followed his line of sight. He was looking across the way at a silver pushcart with a pink umbrella. It had a small crowd of people around it, nearly blocking it from our sight, but it was easily recognizable.

"Want some ice cream, Isabella?" Phineas asked suddenly, veering in the direction of the brightly painted ice cream stand.

"Ice cream?"

"Yeah!" He pulled out in front of me, but turned around so he was walking backwards. "My treat!"

I couldn't focus on the park, the delectable sweets, or his question, because I was mulling over one of my own; was Phineas actually offering to buy _me_ ice cream after a day of strolling around a park together?

I couldn't think straight. Walking around a park, excessive amounts of alone time, and now a treat paid for by the gentleman… this was the closest thing I'd ever had to a date. And I was with Phineas. _Phineas._

Sure, I'd been asked out in high school, but I just couldn't bring myself to date other guys. I turned them down as sweetly as I could, and _this_ was why: having days like these with Phineas after he finally realized what could be between us.

I mean, I know this wasn't a date, and he hadn't done any "realizing." Phineas was a sweetheart, and did the sweetheart thing by offering to buy. But still, it was the closest he and I had ever gotten to the real deal.

I should be enjoying it, and I was, but I also had this nagging sense of guilt. Part of my brain—the part that was outrageous, and scandalous, and impossible, and yet _still there_—was whispering, _what about the quiet British boy?_

"Of course you want ice cream," Phineas chuckled when I didn't respond. "You wait here. I'll be right back."

He took off toward the cart. My mind was still reeling, but I called out, "Phineas—"

Honestly, I wasn't sure why I had, or where I was going, but he yelled back, "don't worry, Isabella. I know what flavor you want."

He was right, of course. After so long of knowing each other, simple things like favorite ice cream flavors were as familiar as our reflections.

I just wasn't sure if staying here alone was the best idea; it gave me _way _too much time to think.

Knock on wood.

Less than a minute later, Phineas came running back. His cell phone was pressed to his ear and he kept making offhand confirmations, like _uh huh _and _yeah._

"Phineas?" I started, and he winked at me.

"Sure thing… Of course! Bye." He hung up and slipped his phone back into his pocket.

"What's going on?"

"Great news and bad news, Isabella!"

"Ok?"

"The bad news… we're going to have to get a rain check on that ice cream." I nodded my head, motioning for him to go on. "The great news… oh, wait until I tell you this! You'll never believe what I just heard…"

* * *

><p><em>RR please!_

_Not my best cliffhanger, but hopefully it will keep you guys coming back. _

_To those who complain there's not enough Phinabella: there is, just in ways that are less out there. With the two of them, it's the little things that show that he cares. He doesn't flirt, but he does compliment and that says a lot for him. And he's massively unaware of romance as it pertains to him… FOR NOWWWW…_

_Insert evil laugh._

_Thanks for the support! Tune in _*static* _for the next exciting chapter of Enough… Same Bat time! Same Bat channel!_

_Lilly is out, peace!_


	17. Complication

_Tada! A surprise update very soon. And you guys are in for a treat, because this is TWO CHAPTERS. I realized my writing was really ahead of posting, all the way on Chapter 23, so I mushed together 17/18 and then 19/20 into super chapters instead. You're welcome :)_

_The wait is over! __The content of that mysterious ten seconds is finally revealed, and boy is it getting to my precious Ferb._

_Once again, thanks to you reviewers. Love ya! Special, special thanks to HigherSilver and Enula, who have __shown a lot of support every time I update!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Phineas and Ferb._

* * *

><p>CHAPTER SEVENTEEN:<p>

Complication

**FERB**

_Thank goodness it wasn't Phineas._

After Candace had interrupted us last night, that was all Isabella had said before she ran upstairs.

Today was beautiful—the epitome of an impeccable summer in Danville, and the perfect day to be hanging at the park with my cousins. Sadly, even as Eliza and Beckham caught me up on recent events from across the pond, I couldn't stop thinking about those five words. They were eating away at me.

_Thank goodness it wasn't Phineas. _

But it was Phineas, it was always Phineas.

I'd hoped that, before Candace came upstairs, Isabella and I had been having a moment. We were finally getting somewhere, right? Nope. At the drop of a hat, her thoughts snapped straight back to my brother.

I hated it. It made me wonder if I was chasing something impossible… again. It took me a few years to realize Vanessa was never going to happen. That should have made me learn my lesson, yet here I was, falling for another girl that would never be mine.

"Are you okay, mate?" Beckham asked, putting his hand on my shoulder and snapping me back to the present.

"You do look a little knackered," Eliza chimed in.

I flashed them my usual smirk and gave them a thumbs up.

"Well, what have you and Phineas been up to as of late?" The amount of curiosity in my cousins' eyes was refreshing, and I made a renewed attempt at staying alert in the conversation.

We grabbed ice cream from the local ice cream cart and made our way to a park bench—newly painted, thanks to the Fireside Girls. I recounted the many inventions Phineas, Isabella and I made this summer, from our contraptions to the community service projects, and every scheme in-between.

I was just detailing how Isabella kicked Buford's butt at spherical balloon maze laser tag, when Eliza interrupted me.

"Are you ever going to ask her out?"

It was rare for people to take me off-guard, but my older cousin had managed just that. I froze mid-bite of creamy deliciousness, while Beckham nearly choked on his. After a second, I regained my composure and cleared my throat.

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"That's a load of bollocks," Beckham muttered under his breath. It was Eliza's turn to be scandalized, this time by my younger cousin's language.

"Beck!" she exclaimed, but it wasn't enough to completely distract her from me. "And do not give me that load of tosh, Ferb. You fancy her."

"Of course I don't," I lied. "We're best friends, the three of us. Isabella, Phineas, and I."

"So have you snogged her yet?" Beckham cut in, never afraid to be blunt.

"Beckham!" Eliza started, once again taken aback by her brother's words.

"What?" the younger Brit cut back defensively. "It's an honest question. You want to know if he fancies her, I want to know if he's given her a good snogging. I personally don't see the difference."

I hoped Eliza would get on Beck's case instead of pursuing further questioning. Naturally, luck was not on my side. The ever-inquisitive Eliza chose to forgo scolding her brother's "vulgarity" to study me.

I resolutely stared down my ice cream cone. Maybe if I focused on it hard enough, it would explode, and I could avoid this conversation. I hadn't talked to anyone about this except Isabella, and I had no intentions of changing that.

"Wait," she gasped, "have you?"

I hadn't expected Eliza to read me like that, and it made me nervous about what other people saw when I was around or talked about Isabella. Were things that obvious?

I stared even harder at the frozen treat in my hands. An explosion would be helpful. Any time now… just a nice, simple explosion. Was that too much to ask?

"Oh my god, are you _blushing_?" Eliza leaned forward, making it nearly impossible to avoid her eyes. Next to her, Beckham laughed; they had all the answer they needed.

"Smashing, Ferb! You sly bloke! How long has this been going on?"

Simultaneously, Eliza was gushing, "Awwwww… Ferb and Isabella. It's so adorable!"

"It's nothing," I said quickly.

"Your red cheeks attest otherwise, cousin dearest," Eliza laughed, poking my side.

_Thank goodness it wasn't Phineas._

"There's _nothing_ going on between us," I repeated.

"Bull," Beck exclaimed, laughing along with his sister.

_Thank goodness it wasn't Phineas._

"_Shove off_," I muttered, knocking Eliza's hand away. All laughing stopped.

"Ferb, what is wrong?" she asked softly. I sighed and finally met their eyes. They meant well, and maybe it would help to talk to someone about this.

"Yes."

"What?"

"Yes, I fancy her. Yes, I… I've even kissed her."

"I sense there's a 'but' in here somewhere," Beck commented dryly.

"_But _nothing is happening between us. And nothing ever _will _happen between us. There's… there's a… complication."

Complication. Not a word I would usually use to describe Phineas. I could tell they wanted more, but how did one explain that they were in love with a girl who was in love with their brother?

_Whoa_… backtrack. I _was not_ in love with Isabella. It was a crush… just a crush…

"What is the complication?" Eliza asked gently. The softness in her tone only added to my embarrassment.

Then a flash of yellow and black caught the corner of my eye, and my head snapped to the side. Across the park, I saw none other than the topic of our conversation: Isabella… who was with my quirky little brother.

They were laughing. Phineas was obviously telling a story, gesturing in that energetic way he had. Then he saw the ice cream cart, said something, and ran toward it. Isabella looked stunned, and he called something back to her as she waited behind.

I silently, cursed; out of all the things Phineas could do today, he had to go out with Isabella to the park where I was chatting with my cousins. Now they could see my brother on his friend-date, hanging with my Isabella and buying her ice cream like a proper gentleman.

After only a few seconds in line, Phineas answered his phone, talked on it briefly, and ran back to Isabella.

He said something, and she broke into a massive smile, giddily bouncing up and down on her toes. She threw her arms around him energetically, then pulled back, talking a million miles a second. Phineas laughed, and said something back.

Then he reached over and took her hand, and my breathing hitched. That was not something one did on a friend-date. Not Phineas, at least. He started tugging her in the other direction, but it felt like he was tugging on my heart instead. In a second, they were gone.

"_Oh_," Eliza breathed. I looked back at my cousins, but they continued to stare across the park, where my brother and Isabella had just been. They'd seen the whole thing.

"The complication?" Beck asked, thought he didn't need an answer anymore.

"They're meant for each other; ask anyone in Danville, and they'll tell you." Although I tried to sound casual, I couldn't hold back the bitter twinge to my voice.

"Anyone… but you," Eliza replied.

"Oh no," I laughed, the sound sharp and void of humor, "no, I'll tell you the same thing. Phineas and Isabella. Isabella and Phineas. Phinabella, as our friends call them behind their backs. They're the epitome of a perfect couple."

"And the two of you…?"

I watched the ice cream melt down my fingers, but I didn't really want any more.

"Like I said, it's nothing."

"But you said that you and she—that you kissed," Eliza restated.

"And I should have known better," I cut back. "She loves Phineas. She's always loved Phineas for as long as I remember. End of story."

I got up and crossed over to a trashcan to dispose of my uneaten treat. My cousins shuffled after me.

Eliza grabbed my arm. "Oh, don't be such a… such a Gumby!"

I raised my eyebrow at her. "Gumby?"

"I suppose to a _Yank_ like you, that'd be a mild and polite way of calling you a moron," Beck chimed in.

"The point, Ducky," Eliza cut back in, "is that if you found someone who accepts you—"

"Nerdy Boffin that you are," Beckham mumbled, only to get hit by his sister.

"What I am saying," she continued, "is that if you like Isabella, and she accepts you for you, you should go for it."

_Thank goodness it wasn't Phineas._

"I appreciate your words, your sentiment, everything, but you don't get it. She loves _him_. Therefore, bottom line, me and Bella—_Isabella_—are just not possible."

"But—"

"It's _not possible,_" I cut back more harshly than I'd intended, and Eliza's face fell.

"So…" she said after a long, awkward minute of silence, "what are you going to do, then?"

That was a heavy question. What would I do? There only seemed to be one answer. I would make my best friend happy. By extension, I would make my brother happy… eventually. I wouldn't put Isabella in a position where she'd have to break my heart. I wouldn't force her into that situation knowing she'd hate herself for it.

I would friend zone myself.

* * *

><p><strong>PHINEAS<strong>

"Wait, so he's _finally _going to propose?" Isabella clarified, her eyes wide at the news I'd just delivered.

"Yeah, he's doing it tonight, and he wants our help."

"_Oh my god,_" she squealed, tossing her arms around me in an enthusiastic hug. "Candace is going to be so happy!" She pulled back, still bouncing up and down on her toes. "I can't believe this! I'm _so_ excited to for them!"

"Yeah, but we're pressed for time. On the phone, Jeremy said he'd meet us at our house during his lunch break. While he and Candace finish their work shifts, you and I are going to set everything up. We have to hurry!"

She glanced at her wristwatch. "Phineas, are you saying we have five hours to plan and set up the perfect engagement?"

"Precisely why I said we have to hurry!" I took her hand and pulled her in the direction of home. "Come on!"

The park wasn't too far from our house, maybe around seven or eight blocks away, so we took it at a jog.

"You know," Isabella panted next to me, "if I'd known we'd be running, I wouldn't have worn flats."

"I know," I huffed, "but his break only lasts an hour, and it started forty minutes ago."

After a couple minutes, she spoke again.

"Phineas, can I ask you something?"

"You just did," I joked. Her hand flew out and smacked the back of my head. It wasn't hard—in fact, it only made me want to laugh—but she got her message across. "Sure, ask away."

"Candace and Jeremy have been dating for seven years now. Why is he just now proposing? Were there…" she faltered, obviously embarrassed to be asking, but curious all the same. "Were there any problems between them?"

I laughed. "Problems? Between Jeremy and Candace? Definitely not. Those two are perfect for each other."

"Then why—?"

"Because it wasn't really pragmatic." She shot me a questioning look, so I continued. "Think about it, Izzy. Jeremy travels a lot for his job. He has so many conventions and stuff that send him here or there. That's rough to handle with a fiancé or spouse. Getting married never fit into his work life."

"Then why is he doing it now?"

"Didn't I tell you about his promotion?" I queried, and she shook her head. Huh, I guess in my excitement, I forgot to tell her. "Yeah, he'll be getting better pay, and the job will keep him closer to home. They told him today, and the second they did, he went out and bought the ring."

"Oh, that's so romantic!" Isabella crooned, her running taking on an almost skip-like quality.

When we made it to our house, both of us were winded, but seeing Jeremy waiting out front, a giant grin plastered on his face, made our fatigue disappear.

We greeted him with excited shouts and hugs.

"Can we see the ring?" Isabella begged, practically bouncing in front of him. Jeremy laughed.

"Nope, sorry. I want Candace to be the first one to see it," he said with mirth. Then he shot Isabella a smirk, tacking on, "heaven knows she's waited long enough."

Isabella turned pink—what was that about?—but quickly recovered with a cry of, "that's so sweet!"

"Look," Jeremy sighed, " I have to get back to work soon, but I wanted to recruit your guys' help. I want to propose in your backyard, where we hung out, had dates, and even our first kiss. I think it'd mean the world to her, but I also want it to be special. Romantic. Something a little out of the ordinary."

"I think we can manage that," I said with a grin.

"Good!" Jeremy called, making his way to his car. "I get off half an hour before she does, so we can go over the nitty gritty then. Thanks, guys!"

Isabella and I waved goodbye before crossing over to the back gate.

"Well, Phineas," she sighed, "what are we going to do?"

I leaned against the fence, pondering that question. Romance was never my forte, as Buford constantly teased, but I was sure I could come up with something. After five minutes, the ideas started flowing… although I wasn't sure how good they were.

"We could build a giant replica of some great date place, but personalize it. Like… like… The Chinese Can…dace Theatre!" I declared. "You know, like The Chinese Man Theatre, but—"

"Probably not," she chuckled.

"We could try another romantic cruise?" I didn't like recycling ideas, but that seemed to work for Baljeet years ago.

"No. Besides, Jeremy wants it in the backyard."

"Well, then we could set them up a romantic dinner. Right here," I began again, motioning to the grassy space in front of the tree. Isabella smiled; I was on the right track. "And we could rig the whole place to use exploding—"

"Oh, Phineas, you're hopeless!" she sighed, throwing her arms out in exasperation. "Candace wouldn't want that. She'd want something simpler. Think more personal and romantic."

"But—"

"No giant contraptions," she laughed, "and most certainly no explosions."

No contraptions and no explosions? Honestly, I had no idea where to go from there. I rested my hand on my chin.

"Well we could… no, I suppose that would be considered a contraption." I mulled even harder, tapping into those parts of my brain reserved for pure creation. "What about… no, that would lose 57% of its coolness without explosives involved."

"You'll get it," Isabella encouraged quietly. "'You'll eventually get it."

There was something I couldn't quite understand in her voice, but I couldn't dwell on it. One hundred percent of my thinking skills had to go into tonight; Candace deserved it.

Finally, the solution dawned on me.

"That's it! I've got it!" I proclaimed.

"About time." Isabella snorted and gave me a teasing smile. "So what do you got?"

"You!"

I could tell that wasn't what she'd been expecting. A solid seven seconds passed before she spluttered out a, "what?"

"You! You're the answer! They say love is war, and I'm declaring myself unfit for duty."

"Phineas, you're not making any sense."

I took her hand and pulled her to the center of the yard.

"I'm terrible with all of this romance stuff," I said, and she burst out laughing. Was what I said that funny? I continued anyway. "I'll mess it up, but not you. You can make this perfect."

I could almost see the weight press down on her shoulders.

"Phineas, I don't—I don't know if—"

"Guys ask you out at school all the time, so you must be doing something right. If anyone can plan the perfect engagement for my sister, it's you!"

Her eyes widened and her cheeks turned pink, and I realized my comment embarrassed her. That confused me, though; I'd done nothing but report the facts. Everyone loved Isabella.

Finally, after what felt like forever of studying my face, she muttered, "okay. But we've only got one afternoon to set up the perfect night. We've got a lot to do."

"We've done far more with far less time." A grin broke across my face, and I stood at attention, like a cadet in military school. "What's your command, Captain Isabella?"

She giggled, but grew serious again. I could practically see the gears turning in that head of hers. A sly smile crept across her lips, and I knew she had it.

"Phineas, I know what we're going to do today." The way she said that, her eyes gleaming with determination, gave me an excited chill. "Go get some gardening tools and your chemistry kit."

* * *

><p><em>RR please!_

_Sorry if I messed up Ferb's British cousins. I'm far from British, but I did my best._

_Poor Ferb. Right as he was getting somewhere with Isabella, Phineas gets drawn back into it. It's like a slap to the face :( Poor baby. What will Ferb "__friend zoning" himself with Isabella look like? Probably not all that pretty XD_

_Next chapter is intense. Ferb tries to friend zone… but Isabella is adorable. Disaster ensues. What kind of disaster, you might ask? Tune in next time to see. Same Bat time, same Bat channel!_

_Haaaaaaaave a happy day!_


	18. Practice

_So… Ferb completely friend zoning himself with Isabella… won't that be interesting. And messy._

_I was so excited… 40 reviews? Yay! Those reviews really make my day; I love it! Keep them coming, and the story shall keep trucking along. Well… I'd be writing and posting this even it was for a field of crickets, because I'm reeeeeeally nerdy, but reviews definitely help! Reviews = happiness for this writer. Well, writing = happiness for this writer, but you know what I mean :)_

_Longest chapter yet, but like I mentioned last time, this is two chapters in one!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Phineas and Ferb._

* * *

><p>CHAPTER EIGHTEEN:<p>

Practice

**FERB**

After saying goodbye to Eliza and Beckham for the day, I made my way back home. I was about to head in the front door, when I heard a strange _whooshing _noise coming from the back of the house. It seemed only natural that that's where Phineas and Isabella would end up after a day of… whatever they'd been doing together.

My backyard had been home to many strange things. There'd been over a decade of impossibilities that happened inside those average, suburban planks of wood that made our fence, so one would think I'd long lost my ability to be surprised.

Well, that was definitely false.

The first thing that hit me was the smell, wafting through the air and entering my lungs before I'd even touched the gate handle. I couldn't quite pin it down, but it was lovely. It was definitely floral, but brought to mind spring, a light breeze, and something else, something altogether feminine.

I walked through the gate, and my mind was immediately overwhelmed.

The inside of our fence was covered by mixing lattices of dark green ivy. Or were they light green? Each leaf shimmered from shade to shade: moss, mint, forest, acid, teal, olive, and then the color of a perfectly ripe green apple.

From where I stood, a path had been formed leading to the center of the yard, where there was a table for two. On either side of the walkway grew roses, densely bunched together by the dozens.

Like the ivy on the fence, the roses changed colors, from red to pink irregularly. There were hundreds of them just along the short walk to the table, creating a sea of shifting hues, from the color of blood to blush to bubblegum.

I walked up to the table to see that it was intricately woven together from what I thought were rose stems, though there wasn't a thorn in sight. The same went for the chairs, which looked like those you'd see in an old-fashioned French café, though made out of greenery instead of iron.

It had to be one of the most beautiful things I'd ever seen. Somehow, my backyard had been turned into the perfect romantic alcove, a natural quixotic wonderland.

"Isabella, you ready?" came my brother's voice from… above me?

"Ready, Phin. On my mark." My neighbor called back. My eyes traced up the tree trunk—also covered in ivy now—and into the foliage above. From somewhere inside the leaves, Isabella counted down, "three, two, _one._"

A _whooshing _filled the air, like someone had turned on one of those power hoses that were meant to wash decks. Little buds sprung up through the leaves, blooming into small, kaleidoscopic roses like the ones on the ground.

"Perfect!" Phineas hollered. A second later, he and Isabella dropped to the ground, high-fiving each other with massive grins. "You're a genius!"

"Well _you're_ the one who created the plant serum," she responded pleasantly.

"Yeah, but if you hadn't thought of it—"

They both turned around, and Isabella almost ran into me. Apparently, neither had noticed my arrival, because the girl shrieked and jumped almost two feet in the air, and my brother nearly dropped this weird hose-device-thing he was holding, coming the closest I'd ever seen to him cussing.

"_Fudge_, Ferb," he blurted out, his hand flying to his chest in shock. "I know you're as silent as a ninja, but you could at least give a bro a warning!"

After Isabella got over her initial fright, she started bouncing up and down in that giddy way she had earlier today.

"Ferb, you'll never believe it! We've got great news!" she gushed, grinning from ear to ear. "Guess what's _finally _happening!"

My eyes shot from her face, to my brother, and back.

I know I'd told my cousins that Phineas and Isabella were made for each other. I'd spent the rest of the afternoon convincing myself that I'd resign to being her friend so she wouldn't struggle with the idea of choosing. She would be happy with Phineas.

But standing here, I wasn't sure if I could actually be okay with what was "finally happening." I was usually the master of controlling emotions, but could I pull off the role of supportive brother and best friend when Phineas was with Isabella?

As if she could read my mind, the girl in front of me suddenly went pale.

"Oh! No! That's not—I… Candace!" She quickly blurted out. "I was talking about Candace!"

"Jeremy's going to propose," Phineas added on, ignorant to how I'd taken Isabella's words. "Isn't that awesome!"

I hadn't realized how tightly my chest had been knotted until their words sunk in. It was like someone had pulled a base block from Jengo, and an entire tower of anxiety came crashing down.

_They're not together. They're still just friends._

"So what do you think, Ferb?" my brother asked. "Romantic enough for you?"

I nodded my head; the backyard really did look amazing.

"Isabella was the one who came up with the idea to create an enchanted garden," he said humbly. "It took me a solid three hours to perfect my genetic splicing to get the plants to change colors."

"And another hour going around and getting them to grow," Isabella added on. "It's too bad you weren't here, though, because it was a lot of fun. Phineas whipped up these super hose blaster things," she gestured to the device in Phineas' hands, "and wherever we sprayed them, _bam, _these plants grew!"

I smiled at how enthusiastic they both were, but I was also a little sad. They made such a great team.

"I hope you had fun with your cousins," said my brother, "but we're in crunch time now."

I pulled my hands from my pockets, silently asking what he needed built.

"There's no more building, but I have one more job to do. I need you and Isabella to help me while I finish programming the flowers."

I gave my brother a look, _programming the flowers_?

He grabbed my arm with one hand and Isabella's with the other. "You'll see," he said simply, dragging us back down the path to the gate. "You two wait here; I'll grab the command board."

As he trotted off, I crouched down and plucked a flower from a hedge. I wasn't sure how Phineas got it to change colors, but it was absolutely beautiful.

"Program the flowers?" I asked amusedly, still studying the flora.

"I have no idea," Isabella laughed. "It wasn't part of our original plan."

"It's a good thing you took charge."

"No joke. Phineas wanted explosives."

"Figures," I chuckled.

I stood up and turned back toward her, and my breath caught. She had her hands clasped behind her back, staring up at me with those big, captivating eyes of hers.

Without thinking, I brushed some of her hair behind her ear, pinning it there with the rose I'd picked. Her cheeks immediately burned the color of the flower, and I quickly looked away.

_I'm trying to be her friend! _I scolded myself. _Just her friend. _There's no way I'd be able to do that if I kept letting her destroy my self-control like that. I had to stop!

We stood in silence until Phineas returned.

"Nice flower, Isabella," he chirped. He sat on the ground in front of the glass-sliding door, holding a black control panel around the size of a kitchen tile. "Okey dokey, time for some technological magic!"

I flagged down my brother and quizzically raised my shoulder.

"Right, I forgot to tell you your roles. I have to program the flowers to coincide with Jeremy and Candace's movements, but who wants their younger brother watching their romantic engagement dinner?" he asked rhetorically. "Thus, I'm programming the flowers ahead of time to automatically do what they'll do based on movements in the yard."

"Where do we come in?" Isabella interrupted, voicing the question I was wondering too.

"You guys are the practice," he said casually.

Knowing my brother as well as I did, I realized exactly where this was going. What I didn't understand was _why. _Just a few days ago, Phineas seemed almost jealous, and now he was just fine with us being "practice"? What changed those suspicious glances into calm indifference?

I had a feeling it wasn't knowledge and acceptance of my feelings for the girl beside me, that's for sure. Maybe Isabella had said something? Or, more likely, Candace?

Yes, Candace. Definitely Candace. What ideas had she put into my little brother's head?

"You're going to act as Candace and Jeremy," Phineas elaborated. "While you walk around, going through the stages of the night, I'll calibrate the flowers to do what they have to do. That way, when it's time for the real Candace and Jeremy in…" he glanced at his wristwatch, "around an hour, everything will be automatic, and they can have some privacy."

I glanced down at Isabella, but she looked like she was still processing what Phineas had said.

"Wait," she began slowly, but Phineas cut her off.

"We don't have a lot of time," he said, pulling a screwdriver out of his shorts pocket and fastening a bolt on the back of the panel. "I'm… starting the infrared sensors in the microchips…"

"You have the roses wired with _microchips_?" I blurted out.

Phineas shot me a sassy look that seemed to say, _oh please, Ferb. I have the world wired._

"Just one more second… and… we're good to go." He finished his tinkering with a flourish of the screwdriver. I glanced back down at Isabella, but she still seemed confused.

"Practice?" she squeaked under her breath. Finally, she looked up at me.

It was hard to read quite was going on in that brain of hers. She gave me a shy smile, but her eyes glimmered with uncertainty. Phineas' intentions were 100% pure, completely in the name of setting up the perfect evening for our sister, but he'd put us in a really awkward position.

It had been said a billion times; _Phineas is oblivious. _But… _really?_ How could he not realize the tension that would arise from asking two people—regardless of whether or not they were grappling with feelings for each other—to go through the motions of a romantic dinner?

On top of the uncertainty, there was an apparent nervousness in Isabella's eyes… edginess, apprehension, insecurity—but what caught my attention the most was what wasn't there.

There was no disapproval. She hadn't scoffed. She hadn't rejected what Phineas had asked. She hadn't run from the notion of strolling down the path and sitting at that table with me, hadn't given any inclination that she wasn't okay with this.

She just stared, trying to let her eyes tell me things she herself hadn't even figured out yet.

In that moment, I realized Isabella was scared. Things were all mixed up, her interactions with her two best friends permeated with confusion and doubt, and all she wanted were some answers.

I know I'd come into the backyard tonight with the goal of just being a friend to her, but… I do pride myself on being a gentleman. And what gentleman wouldn't comfort a lady in distress? I couldn't give her the answers, but I could show her she had some friendly support, right?

A small smile stole across her lips, and I inwardly cursed.

Friendzone failures: 2, Self-control: 0.

I took her hand. Her eyes swelled in surprise, glancing from our interlocked fingers, to my face, to Phineas.

Yes, she'd be worried about what Phineas would think. She'd always be worried about what Phineas would think. I may not like it, but I could ease that fear for her, too. Clearing my throat, I spoke loud enough for my brother to hear.

"Anything for Candace, right?"

* * *

><p><strong>ISABELLA<strong>

"Well, Ferb," Phineas said from his spot by the door, "you never were one to do things half-way. Accuracy will help the infrared sensors with Candace and Jeremy later."

Phineas' tone revealed no sense of agitation when his brother took my hand. Should that bother me? Should it have bothered him? Perhaps I was overthinking things, but sometimes, situations just needed to be overthought! I swear, that whole nun thing—a Jewish nun… maybe I should rethink that—was becoming more and more appealing. I mean—

Ferb squeezed my hand, effectively halting my internal build-up to panic. His eyes danced with understanding, and I found myself staring into them for just a second too long. I quickly cleared my throat.

"Anything for Candace, huh?" I asked coyly. "You're such a _great_ little brother."

"Well, it's also in the name of… what did Phineas call it? _Technological magic._"

"Uh huh," I muttered under my breath, but I didn't pull my hand away. It felt… nice. Warm. "Let's just do what Phineas needs."

He shrugged, and we started walking forward. After a couple of steps, we quickly learned what Phineas had programmed; a faint glow came from behind us, and I glanced back.

Every rose that we'd passed was lit up like a tiny lantern. Each one had a weak glimmer, as if a tea light candle was in its center, and filled the air with shades of red and pink that shifted with the flowers.

The fact that Ferb and I were "practice", all the complications in my life, all of my concerns took a backburner to my current delight. I let out a childish giggle, dragging Ferb forward four more steps.

In sequence, the roses lit up just as we passed. I glanced from Phineas to Ferb, my eyes wide with glee. I'm sure I must have looked silly, but I couldn't help it! The roses were lighting up as we passed them! Hundreds of them!

It was like I'd just walked into a fairytale!

"This is amazing!" I squealed, pulling Ferb with me all the way to the table. I instantly turned around, watching the rose-lanterns ignite in our trail. "Look at all the color! It's _so_ pretty!"

Next to me, Ferb chuckled.

"What?" I asked.

"Nothing," he said, still snickering under his breath.

"_What_?" I asked more defensively.

"Nothing, Bella. It's just… beautiful." He shifted his gaze from me back to the garden. "Like a candlelight vigil. This will be perfect when the sun goes down."

There was that nickname again… _Bella._ I wasn't used to anyone but my mom having a nickname for me, but it felt kind of nice. Different.

The backyard got a little darker all of the sudden, and I glanced to my left. A patch of roses had gone out.

"Uh-oh, Phineas!" I called. The inventor's head snapped up from the control board. "A chunk of them went out."

"And this, lady and gent, is why we practice," Phineas called back good-humoredly, getting up to examine the dark patch of roses. "Looks like some of them have a faulty circuit. I can whip up a few new chips lickety split and fix it. You two hang tight."

Before I could say anything—really, what reason would I even have to protest, not being along with Ferb?—Phineas ran off to the garage.

And now… I was standing in the middle of a glowing rose garden, at sunset, holding hands with my best friend. _Of course. _My gaze was planted on the ground, resolutely avoiding looking at the boy in front of me.

"Isabella?" he asked gently.

The tone of his voice made me feel incredibly guilty. I owed it to Ferb to at least look him in the eye, didn't I?

Yes, yes I did.

With an incredible amount of hesitancy, I forced my eyes from the ground to meet… whoa…

Phineas and I had done our job a little too well. The abating sun and the glow from the flowers gave everything a surreal, magical aura. His face was lit up softly from every angle, setting off his eyes, which gleamed with an odd mixture of gravity and mischief.

Yes, I was standing here holding hands with my best friend, but_ damn_, I was standing here holding hands with my _very_ attractive best friend. I felt completely embarrassed for thinking that, but a) I figured my cheeks couldn't get any redder than they already were, and b) _damn._

I'm sure I had a funny look on my face, but I didn't know what to do with the realization that this boy I'd known since we were five was actually… _hot._

As if he could read my thoughts, his mouth curved into a smirk. My mind stopped working right then and there.

"I, uh…" I stuttered, lost in dark blue irises. "I—"

I was incapable of saying more.

I had a dizzy, lofty feeling that I didn't know how to handle. But just this once, I didn't _try_ to handle it it. I didn't know if it was the ambiance from the lights or the floral smell in the air, but I let myself dwell in this jumpy feeling he gave me.

I bit my lip. Ferb's eyes followed the movement, and he made a small, breathy noise in the back of his throat. It was soft, so much so that I wondered if I'd even heard it, but—

He pressed his lips to mine.

This wasn't like our first kiss a month ago. The fiery abandon from before was replaced by something altogether different, something hesitant. He didn't pull me to him, didn't embrace me. He just held my hand and let his mouth move against mine.

My shock dissipated, and I leaned into the kiss. My eyes fluttered closed, focusing on the pressure of his lips on mine. I could feel my pulse from my ears to my toes, but something was holding him back. He was being so cautious, so reluctant.

I could almost taste how fragile this moment was.

My free hand drifted up, hovering a centimeter over his chest. It lingered there, not touching him. I was too scared to close that little distance, to turn this into something where we actually _held._

But just as we were there, on that tantalizing tipping point where things would get heated, he pulled back. Actually, it was more like he jerked back.

"_Damn it_," he blew out in a huff, letting go of my hand. My mind was still fixed on a few seconds ago, trying to fill the void of warmth left on my lips after he stopped; I couldn't understand why he seemed so angry.

It sounded like he muttered, _damn_, under his breath again, but I couldn't tell, because he turned his back to me. Why was he mad?

"What's-what's wrong?" I barely whispered. I wasn't sure if I wanted to know his answer, too afraid of…

Rejection. I was afraid of rejection from Ferb.

That felt like an exceptionally heavy realization, but I'd have to stow it away for later analysis. I still hadn't fully processed what he—what _we_—had just done, before the boy in front of me did the absolute last thing I'd expected.

He laughed.

It wasn't humorous or full of mirth. Rather, it was more of a sad, pitying laugh, like a tragic hero who'd just realized his fatal flaw, and knew he could do nothing to atone.

"It's just… it's funny," he scoffed, still facing away from me. "I saw you earlier today at the park, and it just cemented something I'd always known; you and my brother are made for each other. I worked to accept that, to resign and build up my resolve to be what you need me to be: a friend."

"Ferb—"

"I thought I could. I was going to do my best to just be a friend to you, just as I've done for twelve years… but then it only took the smallest glimmer of an opportunity for me to take your hand and cross that freaking boundary again."

"Ferb—" I hated hearing this ireful tone in his voice. Ferb was never upset, spiteful, or cross, and seeing him on the border of it now was… scary.

"All you have to do is stroll on up to me with that… that look of yours—the one that you could flash anyone, and have anything in the world—and all of my determination, my resignation… it all goes to hell!"

I was a little taken aback by his outburst. It was rare for Ferb act like this, and I couldn't tell at whom his irritation was directed—me, or himself.

"Ferb, I—"

"_Stop _saying my name. Don't you see that's part of the problem? I've always had exorbitant amounts of self-control, and all you have to do is… is… bite your lip, or something ridiculous, and it all comes crashing down."

"Am I supposed to apologize for that?" I asked, his tone getting under my skin. Where was all of this coming from?

"You could, but it wouldn't matter. It wouldn't make a difference, because you'll just do what you always do. You always will, and try as I might, I can never be Phi—" he exhaled. "You're just... you are so… so… _frustrating_!"

"_I'm _so frustrating?" I asked incredulously.

"Yes, Isabella," he responded, finally turning back toward me. His voice was once again completely calm, which made it even worse. "You are undeniably and extraordinarily frustrating."

There was a bang from the garage, and my head snapped to the side, worried Phineas was on his way back. A few seconds passed, though, and it became evident that wasn't an issue yet.

"Thank goodness it wasn't Phineas," Ferb said acidly, and my eyes darted back to him. Was that a shot at me? Was _that_ why he was so mad? _Newsflash_! I liked Phineas! Ferb should know that better than anyone, so why was he throwing that in my face?

"Is that what this is about? Phineas? And _you're _the one that kissed _me_! Twice! How is that _my_ fault?"

"_That's_ why you're frustrating!" he spat back, but I couldn't understand what he was getting at. All I knew was that I felt like he was accusing me, and I didn't like it.

We just stood there, fuming. At each other? At ourselves? At this whole situation? I wasn't sure if either of us knew; we were just mad.

I was right during the kiss, when I thought the moment was fragile. We'd somehow broken it, and I wasn't sure where the two of us would go from here.

Then Phineas came back into the backyard sporting a handful of microchips, and it was like someone had flipped a switch. Ferb's face, wrought with emotion a second ago, became completely smooth, almost pleasant.

Ferb's sudden change in demeanor only made me even more furious. I felt hurt, which grew to be more and more indignant with my anger, but I fought to not let that show. Just like the green-haired boy next to me, I put on a poker face.

"Order's up!" the redhead proclaimed, his voice cracking on the last word. He quickly fixed the roses that were having issues, and the whole section began glowing like the rest, but his movements were uncharacteristically antsy.

_Phineas Alarms_ started going off in my head.

"You okay?" I asked him, suddenly worried that he might have heard something. The idea was so horrifying I was worried I would give myself an ulcer.

"Yeah. Just got a message from Candace," he replied. "I guess it put me a little on edge."

"A message from Candace? What about?"

"Just about a conversation we had this morning." He shook his head dismissively. "Nothing too important."

He didn't scratch his ear in that nervous way he did when he lied, so I figured he was telling the truth. I felt a massive amount of relief; he hadn't heard Ferb and I's argument.

Then Phineas' eyes moved to study my face with a level of intensity that was unusual for him. The air was charged, heavy and awkward, and I could do nothing but stare back.

It didn't help that all of this—Ferb kissing me, our fight, and now Phineas' sudden interest in my eyes—was happening in the light of one of the most romantic settings imaginable. I could practically feel that ulcer developing.

After what felt like an eternity, Phineas' gaze softened and he smiled.

"What do you think of the roses?" he asked, regaining his usual attitude.

I mustered as much sweetness as I could. "They're beautiful, Phin."

"Looks like I'm not as bad at this romance stuff as Buford says, huh?" he laughed. "Who'd have thought?"

Ferb snorted, shooting me a look before saying, "yeah, bro. Looks like there's hope for you yet."

* * *

><p><em>RR please!_

_I'm evil, but I stated from the beginning I wanted to mess with your shipping mind. Get you to see both sides, __because I love both shippings. Naturally, there shall only be one… but it's fun to have some... fun on the way._

_Oh Ferb… Poor baby. Kissing her was definitely a friend zone fail, and he was so frustrated with the fact he loves someone that he can't have that he picked a fight with her. And threw Phineas into it. And now they're fighting._

_PHINEAS! I'm devious, I know… what was with him at the end? What happened in that message from Candace that has Phineas acting so weird? You'll have to wait until the next chapter to see what's going on in his oblivious little head._

_Although maybe it's not so oblivious anymore ;) A little teaser… next chapter is called _Realizations. _Do with that what you will._

_~Lilly_


	19. Realizations

_Today is the one month anniversary of this story! YAY!_

_This is only one chapter this time, but the next one is the longest yet. Not my fav… but sets some stuff up. Enjoy!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Phineas and Ferb._

* * *

><p>CHAPTER NINETEEN:<p>

Realizations

**PHINEAS**

Everything was going perfectly. With Isabella's ideas and my inventing expertise, we created the most enchanting place for Jeremy to propose.

Now I'd revealed my surprise: the glowing lights I put in each rose while I was doing my genetic splicing. I knew they'd be pretty, but I was completely unprepared for how thrilled Isabella was. I was now exceptionally excited, because if Isabella loved it that much, Candace would absolutely freak.

I was so pleased that it didn't even bother me when some went of the roses went out. I quickly went to the garage and made some more chips. It was easy enough, and only took around five minutes.

I was just putting away my supplies, when my phone went off. I whipped it out, and my eyes swelled when I saw the message ID: Candace. I quickly slid my finger across the screen to read what she said, hoping beyond hope it didn't say she got off work early, or something. That would be disastrous.

My eyes quickly scanned the text, but I couldn't quite comprehend what she was saying. I reread it slowly, absorbing every word.

**Hey, bro. Listn, i no im not supposed 2 txt at work but its important. Our convo this mornin was rlly bothering me. I no i gave u the wrong impression about wat was goin on. I wasnt sayin Ferb was gttin advice from Isabella. ~C.**

I inwardly cringed at the atrocious grammar—it was the worst part about texting my sister—but I ignored it and quickly typed out a response.

**You don't think Ferb was going to Isabella for advice? What were you trying to imply, then?**

I anxiously waited for a reply. It was quick to come.

**Phineas, I luv u, but u r blind. Think bout the convo. U took it the wrong way. g2g, boss near. C u soon. ~C.**

I was blind? I took the conversation the wrong way? I mentally went through what was said earlier, about her suspicions that Ferb liked somebody, then my comments on how he'd been acting weird. Then Candace became really intrigued when I'd brought up Isabella.

But she didn't think Isabella was helping Ferb? The only other logical way for her to take that would be—

The box of tools I was holding tumbled out of my hands, crashing to the floor and scattering its contents.

For the first time in my life, profanity left my lips.

Candace couldn't… no, she couldn't possibly…

Did my sister actually suspect something was going on… between _Isabella and Ferb_?

That just wasn't possible. That couldn't be possible. Why would Candace even think that? They're close, yes, but all three of us were. We're the three musketeers, peanut butter, jelly, and bread, two peas and a pod, any other cliché of threes in the book.

I mean… I guess that might explain a couple things. Heck, I'd even said it myself: _the compliments, the glances, the whole cuddling on the couch thing_. I supposed that fit, but every cell in my brain still screamed, _no, that's not what's happening! _

It was a hypothesis, but there was no way it had the girth to be extrapolated into a theory.

No, Candace was definitely wrong.

Remembering my task, I cleaned up the tools and made my way back to the backyard, but I was unable to shake this uneasiness that came from Candace's insinuations.

I fixed the roses, all the while studying my best friend and brother. They weren't even holding hands now, so clearly they were just doing it before because I asked them to act as Candace and Jeremy.

I studied Isabella's face, trying to gage the emotions in her eyes, but it was hard. I was never really the best with feelings, and to make things harder, I kept getting sidetracked by the way the pink and red hues from the flowers flashed against her blue eyes. It was… highly distracting.

The only emotion I could glean from her was confusion, and that was probably just because I was staring at her like an idiot.

Thus, I tried to act as normal as possible. We continued calibrating the roses. I set the ones in the tree to light up when they sat down at the table. Then, for the grand finale, I set the ivy on the fence to glow when Jeremy got down on one knee.

I'd tried to dismiss what Candace said—I mean, Ferb and Isabella were just not possible!—but I still found myself studying every facet of their interactions.

The conclusion of my analysis: they didn't act like two people that liked each other.

They didn't talk, or hardly even look at each other. When I asked Ferb to get down on one knee for the scanners, he did so with an air of boredom, and Isabella didn't even glance at him. In-between stages of calibration, neither paid an ounce of attention to the other's existence.

Candace had to be wrong about the two of them.

A car horn came from out front; that'd be Jeremy. I glanced at my watch. Candace got off work in… five minutes ago?!

I scrambled to the front yard. Where had the time gone? Didn't Jeremy say he got off thirty minutes before she did? Why was he just getting here now?

Jeremy got out of his car, carrying a small bag.

"Hey, sorry I'm getting here later than I said," he called as he walked up the drive. "I realized there was the small matter of food. I wanted to have my own personal touch, so I stopped by home and made some grilled cheese."

"Grilled cheese?" Isabella asked, just emerging from the back yard.

"I know it's nothing fancy," he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck, "but it's her favorite, so I thought it'd be best."

"It's perfect," I exclaimed. I took the food from the blonde and gave it to Ferb to put on the table in the backyard. Everything was coming together.

I was filling Jeremy in on the infrared technology, telling him about the sensors, the waves they transmitted from each individual flower bud, and how their rays covered the whole yard, when Isabella laughed.

"It's all set up. Do what you want to do. The surprises will automatically come in from there," she summed up, and Jeremy nodded in appreciation.

I guess there's something to be said for simplicity.

Ferb returned from setting up the food, holding my control panel. I reset it, and the faint glow over the fence ceased. Now it would all light up again for my sister, and it wasn't a moment too soon; she was home.

Candace was a naturally paranoid person, so when she saw me, Ferb, Isabella, and her boyfriend on the front lawn, she immediately grumbled, "okay, what's going on?"

"I thought we'd have dinner," Jeremy replied casually, holding his hand out to his girlfriend, which she took with a suspicious stare.

"Uh huh."

She looked at him for a solid chunk of time, and he gave her a sheepish smile. Finally, she beamed and pulled him in for a kiss. I was suddenly really embarrassed to be there; I loved my sister, but I did _not_ want to see her PDA.

Then, she took everyone by surprise.

"My answer's yes," she sighed, looking into Jeremy's eyes.

"What? But I… I didn't…" he spluttered, his cheeks heating up.

"You didn't have to," she said, tugging him toward the gate. "But let's see what you have planned anyway."

Candace and Jeremy disappeared into the backyard, and we could hear their cries of delight. I was so excited for them; this was a day well seized.

Ferb, Isabella and I quietly went in the front door.

"That was so cute!" Isabella squealed once we were inside. "You're right, Phineas; they are a perfect couple! For her to realize what he was planning so quickly! And when she said, 'you didn't have to,' that was the cutest thing ever!"

I laughed; I guess I never realized how much of a helpless romantic she was.

"I know, and to think she's already said yes," I added on. "Should take some pressure off of Jeremy's shoulders. I'd give that a whopping _Mission Accomplished, _wouldn't you?"

"For sure," she beamed at me.

Ferb nodded before turning on his heel and going up the stairs. That was a little abrupt, even for my brother, but I followed after him.

"We could go to my room and play some games," I recommended, and both of my companions nodded.

Once in my room, I shuffled through my game case and found a four-player one we all enjoyed. When I looked back, I noted that Ferb and Isabella sat on opposite sides of the room. My neighbor looked expectant and my brother looked bored. This was completely normal.

I was a little confused; on what premise had Candace based her assumption? As they were now, the two of them were distant at best. Why would she even think they liked each other?

I'd have to try to pay more attention, but… Ferb and Isabella. _Ferb and Isabella?_

Nah.

* * *

><p><strong>FERB<strong>

My eyes traced the popcorn wall texture of my brother's ceiling for the third hour straight in a futile attempt to bring sleep.

Two days had passed since Isabella and I's quarrel in our backyard. That was two days of Phineas' Big Ideas: an anthropomorphizing ray and an impromptu karate tournament for charity. It was fun, but it was definitely _tense._

Isabella was unbelievably short with me, but I couldn't blame her for that. I kissed her, and then blew up at her. It wasn't like she had any control over that. It wasn't her fault she drove me crazy.

It also wasn't her fault I couldn't accept the long-standing and unconditional fact that she was in love with Phineas.

The result: we spent these past 55 hours pretending the other didn't even exist, beyond simple pleasantries to wane off suspicions from the rest of the household. Even those were terse.

Thankfully, after her engagement, Candace had been spending exorbitant amounts of time with her fiancé, so I didn't have to worry about her questioning me. My brother on the other hand…

Phineas had acted weird when he came back from the garage, mentioning a text message from Candace. Since then, he'd been studying… well… Isabella. A lot. Me as well, I suppose, but I noticed that less often. Probably because he was trying to be discreet.

The night of the engagement was the worst, watching him stare into Isabella's eyes in that transfixed way. Then there were the quizzical glances all through the set up and the video gaming. His scrutiny had persisted the next day, too, but whatever he was looking for, he seemed pleased.

By today, he was acting completely normal again.

Which brought me back to Isabella, with whom I most certainly was not acting normally. Things were a mess, and I was at blame.

Not to say I didn't have my justifications. It really was frustrating, knowing she liked me but _loved_ my brother. I was also mad because she had this terrifying way of making me lose control. And she didn't even realize it!

I felt ridiculous. After Phineas went to the garage, she finally met my eyes, and the look in hers almost made me pounce on her then and there. I barely held myself back. Then, because that wasn't enough, she had to go and bite her lip like that, which I found _extremely _sexy, and the next thing I knew, I was kissing her.

Epic. Friendzone. Fail.

Then, when I was trying to be mad at her, she kept saying my name over and over. _Ferb…_ it was tormenting. If it weren't for the fact that I was so mad at myself, I would have tackled her to the ground and made out with her until morning.

Looking back, I definitely could have handled it better.

I got myself into a helpless situation, falling for my brother's girl. Now she probably thought I hated her, when the core of the problem was the exact opposite. My explosion, my harsh tone, it was all fueled by the fact that I lov—

Bloody hell, I wasn't going to sleep tonight. Guilty conscience plus futile realizations equals one restless night.

I felt too antsy to just lie here, though. I had to do something.

I got off the floor and made my way to Phineas' desk. It was hard to do in the dark, but it wasn't too long before I found what I'd been looking for: a pencil and a notebook. Once achieved, I snuck out of my brother's room and into the bathroom, where I turned on the light and slipped to the floor.

There were a million things I wanted to say to Isabella right now, and yet, when I tried to actually put them on a page, I was drawing a blank.

I sat there for a whole ten minutes, and all I had to show for it was a crude drawing of one of the rose-lanterns, and three words. I figured it would have to do.

I stood back up. Knowing my luck, someone would walk in on me, and I'd get questioned about why I was sitting on the bathroom floor at 3 a.m. I tore the page out of my brother's notebook, my eyes flitting over my futile attempt to make amends.

_I'm sorry. –Ferb._

Oh yeah… if that didn't make things better, nothing would.

I slipped back into the hall and went to my bedroom. The door was closed, and the light was off. Perfect. I slid to note under the door, hoping Isabella would see it in the morning and at least give me a chance to explain.

Feeling a little better, I made my way back down the hall. Maybe now I'd be able to fall asleep.

But things never went as I planned.

I heard a door open behind me, and I froze with my hand on my brother's doorknob. _Crap! _I didn't occur to me that Isabella could have been awake this late.

"Ferb?"

* * *

><p><em>RR please! Reviews make me super happy!_

_Ferb and Isabella are going to talk. Maybe they can make amends. And if they do, where will they go from there? Especially now that Phineas might be catching on. Will Isabella finally concede that she likes Ferb back? Will she shut him down? Will we ever know where Perry is?_

_All questions will be answered… eventually..._

_Except the Perry one. I'd tell you, but then I'd have to use the amnesia-inator on you, and I don't want you to forget to review!_

_~Lilly-Belle_


	20. Heated

_Well the quantity of responses to last chapter were disappointing (I know you guys are out there; it would take two seconds to make my day with a review). But onward!_

_This one is for all of those shippers out there :) Progress!_

_Warning: T rating comes more into effect… Because, as the title suggests, their argument gets heated._

_Disclaimer: I do not own Phineas and Ferb._

* * *

><p>CHAPTER TWENTY:<p>

Heated

**FERB**

"Ferb?" she whispered, and I turned toward her voice.

It was so dark that I couldn't really see Isabella, but I could make out her slim form, her silhouette a denser black inside the shadows of my doorframe.

Maybe I should just slip into Phineas' room and pretend like I didn't hear her; once inside, she definitely wouldn't follow. But I'd already turned around… so that plan was out the window. It was then that something crept up inside of me, something with which I was vastly inexperienced: panic.

This had been the point of the note, to get her to talk to me after how stupidly I'd acted. I just hadn't expected this encounter to happen _right now_. I hadn't prepared what I was going to say, how I was going to remedy our friendship.

"Ferb?" she repeated.

There she goes again, drawing me to her with that one utterance. My feet betrayed my common sense, and I slowly meandered back to my door. I said nothing, but that was alright; she had plenty to say.

"_I'm sorry?_" she hissed under her breath, my notebook paper crinkling in her grasp. "You flip out at me, ignore me for two whole days, and now slip me a note that says, _I'm sorry? _I know you pride yourself on being a man of few words, but _really_? Is this supposed to fix things? Am I supposed to magically feel better now?"

I sighed and pushed her back into my room, closing the door behind me. We were both engulfed in the black space.

"Let me explain," I said somberly. "I wasn't mad at you."

She scoffed, the sound seemingly sharpened by the darkness. "Could have fooled me. You seemed plenty mad."

"I know," I breathed. "But I swear, it wasn't directed at you."

She was silent, and I figured we would do better with a little bit of light. I moved farther into the room, making my way to my nightstand out of instinct. A second later, I flicked the switch on a small lamp.

"I was mad at myself," I continued, staring hard at my floor despite the new source of light. "At what I've gotten myself into."

When Isabella still hadn't said anything, I looked up. She was still standing by the door, her arms crossed over her chest. My mouth went dry when I noticed she was wearing just a cami and a pair of shorts, but the expectant look on her face didn't allow me to dwell; she wanted more.

How did I make this okay? Well… I suppose the best place to start was the truth. I took a deep breath.

"I was in love with Vanessa Doofenshmirtz for three years."

This clearly took her by surprise, but she still had a hard look on her face. I sat down on the edge of my bed. This would be difficult.

"It was like you with Phineas; whenever she was around, I went into my own little world, a world for just that person. I saw flowers and heard music. I felt all tingly, but in a good way.

"After she went off to college, I struggled with the fact that Vanessa and I would never work. It sucked, as all unrequited love does." Her expression softened at this, and I continued. "But I eventually got over her. I focused on school and building with my brother and being there for you.

"I especially liked that last one, because I felt like you understood. Just like me, you struggled with being _in_ _love_, and only getting _love _in return. I figured if I couldn't get my happy ending, I could support my best friend until she got hers."

She slowly crossed the room, silently sitting next to me.

"I just… I never planned to… for _this_ to develop," I spluttered, staring down at my hands and ringing them over each other nervously. I didn't know what I was trying to say or where this was going, but for once in my life, I didn't censor my words.

"I know how you feel about my brother, so I should have known what I was getting myself into, but I couldn't help it. I dove headfirst. Then the other night, you said those words. You said, 'thank goodness it wasn't Phineas,' and it really bothered with me. It reminded me that, despite the kiss and the flirting, I couldn't change how you feel about _him._

"So I had the stupid notion that I should friendzone myself. I was going to just be a friend to you no matter what, so I wouldn't force you to choose. I wouldn't force you to break my heart. I'd take myself out of the equation."

She let out a puff of air—an angry huff? An amused laugh? I wasn't sure, but I let out a sad chuckle of my own.

"Yeah, I obviously failed. You walked up to me, and I had to brush your hair behind your ear. You seemed anxious, and I had to take your hand. You bit your lip, and I had to kiss you."

This was embarrassing. Never in my life had I spoken so much. It was ironic really, like the two of us had switched roles. Here we were on my bed, as we'd been so many times before, lamenting over relationship issues. Only this time, Isabella was the silent one, and I was the one blabbering on like a fool.

Life really was funny sometimes.

"And then I blew up at you. I got so mad, because I kissed you when I planned to never act that way towards you again. I deliberately played with fire, knowing perfectly well that you're my brother's girl, and that the only outcome would be getting burned. I was so mad at myself, and I took it out on you."

I hesitated; I wasn't sure if I should continue, but Isabella still hadn't said a word. I had the feeling she wouldn't speak until she knew for sure I'd said absolutely everything, and she was never the type of girl to settle. She'd make me talk. She was the only one that had ever been able to.

"I was also mad because… because I can't stand what you do to me." Her eyebrows furrowed, and I quickly added on, "to my control. I mean, the way you looked at me in the backyard a few days ago, the way you bit your lip, the way you said my name—if not for the fact that I hated myself for what I wanted, I could have—"

I bit my tongue_._ I meant to let her know I was mad at myself because she tampered with my restraint. I most certainly did not intend to clue her into some of the more perverted thoughts in my eighteen-year-old brain.

I got up to go. I wasn't usually a flight person in that age-old question of flight-or-fight, but everyone had their limits. This extraordinarily embarrassing encounter was definitely enough to make me want to flee. Maybe all the way back to Britain.

"Ferb!" She grabbed my arm, pulling me back down on the edge of the bed. "Ferb, don't go. Not-not like that."

I still hadn't looked at her, knowing that doing so would most likely result in my death from either a) over-embarrassment, or b) having to face the apologetic rejection in her eyes.

"Ferb?" she asked quietly. "Look at me."

She kept saying my name. I couldn't help how much I loved that. Through the years, she never said it much. It was always, _hey, Phineas, what'cha doing?_

"Look at me," she repeated, and I did. I looked into her eyes, and I felt so broken. They were beautiful. She was beautiful. She was crazy sexy right now, too. But she wasn't mine.

"I'm sorry," I repeated.

I tried to look away again, but she moved her hand to my face, forcing my gaze to stay locked with hers.

"Stop that," she snapped, though not harshly.

I looked at her questioningly.

"Stop looking away. Stop selling yourself short. Stop… stop _hurting_." Her voice broke. "I… I can't stand it."

I did as she commanded—or at least the part about not looking away. My traitorous eyes were all too eager to oblige; she was too beautiful for her own good. For my own good. _Self-control._

I couldn't read her expression, which was bizarre. Isabella was the definition of an open book—to anyone but my brother, of course—but the way she was looking at me now… well I'd never gotten a look like that before.

She leaned forward and her mouth found mine.

This wasn't where I expected this conversation to go; best-case scenario, I was hoping for forgiveness and the ability to be friends again. Never in a million years did I think she would kiss me.

Despite the fact that it was the last thing I wanted to do, I pulled back. I gave her a look with a very pointed question: _why?_

She made a noise somewhere between a laugh and a sigh.

"I don't know, Ferb." Her cheeks… turned a little red? "It's becoming a pattern; you start giving a speech, and suddenly I have the urge to kiss you. Maybe it's a good thing you don't talk much, or you'd be mobbed by dozens of infatuated—"

I initiated the kiss again, hoping she got my message; she was the only one who got my speeches.

Isabella wrapped her arms around my neck. This is what our kiss from a three days ago should have been like, if I hadn't been such an idiot. It was soft one second, rougher and more passionate in the next. It was amazing.

"We are all over the place," she mumbled into me.

"A bloody mess," I agreed, capturing her bottom lip between mine.

"This doesn't mean you're off the hook for these past few days." Her fingers sprawled through the back of my hair, and I shuddered against her. It took a minute before I could respond.

"I can live with that." I pushed her mouth open with mine and deepened the kiss, ending the conversation there.

She responded more enthusiastically than I ever could have dreamed, but that was dampened by our awkward position, sitting on the edge of my bed. Even turned to her side, her arms around me, it wasn't enough.

As if she read my mind—she'd been doing that a lot lately—she drew her legs onto the bed, but hesitated for a second, apparently unsure of what to do with them.

Well, I did take it upon myself to ease her troubles, right?

I hooked my hands under her knees, silently asking permission. In answer, she brushed her lips against mine again. Satisfied, I hoisted her legs forward until they rested on top of mine and shifted my attention back to her taste.

Unlike Isabella, I didn't abstain from high school relationships. Girls were intrigued by my quiet demeanor and pursued me thusly, as if a couple of dates would suddenly allow them to break through my silence. None had been successful or lasted more than a dreary rendezvous or two, but I wasn't new to making out.

Being here, though, cradling Isabella's lower back and running my hand through her sloppy ponytail, was entirely different from anything I'd experienced. My brain could only process one word:_wow_.

Was this actually happening right now? Had Isabella Garcia-Shapiro, the girl I grew up with, actually pulled me in for a kiss? Had she really begun fervently frenching me back when I took things a step further? This seemed completely out of left field.

It wasn't too long before we had to break apart purely for lack of air.

I took this opportunity to study her. Her eyes were still closed as she stole oxygen into her neglected lungs. Her chest was heaving from her breathlessness, which confused me until I looked at the clock and realized we'd been at it for twenty minutes straight. Time flies.

Her hair was coming out of her hairband in waves, messy since I'd had my way with it. Her pajamas were driving me wild, revealing far more ivory skin than usual. I always thought she was beautiful, but this sexy bed look was… _damn._

"I'm still… mad at you," she gasped, and I couldn't hold back my laugh.

"I need to make you angry more often." She finally opened her eyes to shoot me an evil look, but it was playful enough.

"Watch it, _Fletcher. _You're on thin ice." She moved to kiss me again, and it quickly got heated.

_Thin ice indeed._

It was a slippery slope, holding her partially on my lap and moving my lips against hers. One could get intoxicated with this feeling. I was there already, my mind inebriated by the smell and feel of her. I had to hold back a groan.

Isabella showed less restraint; a whimper escaped the back of her throat.

That did it. My hand fell to her hip. As I moved to the center of the bed, I pulled her with me, unwilling to let my mouth part from hers. Before I could lose my nerve, I pressed against her, and she fell back, dragging me down on top of her.

* * *

><p><strong>ISABELLA<strong>

Tell me at the beginning of my two weeks at the Flynn-Fletchers that I'd have a semi-park-date Phineas, and I would have been excited.

Tell me Jeremy was finally going to propose to Candace, and excited would have morphed into absolutely ecstatic.

Tell me that Ferb would kiss me, freak out and start a fight with me, ignore me for days, come to my room at 3 a.m. to slip an apology note under my door when he thought I was asleep, pull an_Isabella_ by ranting about relationships on his bed, and then end up with his lips locked to mine again, I would have laughed and muttered, _yeah right_.

Tell me that Ferb would end up on top of me, that we'd make out on his bed for god knows how long—there were no words to describe the implausibility. And yet…

My mind was so far gone that I wasn't completely sure what was happening or what had already occurred. At one point, the hairtie holding in my ponytail had been discarded. Somewhere along the line, my hands had started roaming his torso. I didn't recall when exactly I started arching into him either, letting his hand trail my spine under my tank top.

This was crazy! Romantically speaking, the most I'd ever done with any boy was kiss Ferb on his bed earlier this summer, then a couple days ago in the backyard. Both of those instances had been relatively tame. _This_ was something else entirely.

I was acting and feeling in ways that were incredibly new, exciting, and frightening. I had a whole other side that I never knew existed—one that grasped and pulled and nipped and rambled on internally with a longwinded polysyndeton of lewd verbs.

On an insane whim, I brought one of my legs up and hooked it around his waist, resulting in the boy above me groaning and drawing my body impossibly closer.

Part of my mind griped over the fact that, out of all nights I'd been here, _this _was the one where he'd chosen to go to bed with a shirt on. Yes, those kinds of thoughts were embarrassing, but as Ferb's fingers played across my exposed midriff, I figured dwelling on it was pointless.

You didn't get into the position Ferb and I were in by fixating on the parts that were embarrassing.

He grazed the skin on my side—another part of my body that had been painfully unexplored—and my stomach exploded with butterflies. _Ferb._

Never had I ever expected things to get this… this _heated, _but part of me still questioned just how we'd gotten here.

It wasn't mere playful banter earlier when Ferb said we were a bloody mess. Just three days ago he had sworn me off as a love interest, kissed me anyway, and started a fight. Then we had bitterly ignored each other for two days. Now here we were, all over each other in the a.m. hours. That wasn't healthy, was it?

Ferb ran his hand over my hip, and I gasped. Forget about healthy; between the rush of adrenaline, the discovery that I had a racy side, and the electric tingling in my brain, I couldn't care less.

That is, until my phone went off.

_Summer belongs to you. Summer belongs to youuuu. Summer belongs to everyone, so—_

Nothing says romance like getting the living daylights scared out of you. We both jumped and my hand flung out to silence the dreaded piece of technology, but it had already disrupted the moment.

We were silent save the dragging pants escaping our mouths. I stared up into his eyes, unable to _comprehend. _I could only grasp onto the issue that was tangible and present.

"I have… to check that," I murmured, my voice as sporadic as my heartbeat. With a groan, Ferb rolled off me, coming to rest on his side. Real life rushed back in, and I was immediately overwhelmed by the cold air on my flushed skin.

"Who the hell is calling you at… 4:32 in the morning?" he muttered, his usually smooth voice gruff after recent events.

_4:32 in the morning? _I snatched my phone and turned on its display, ignoring the way the light stung my eyes. 4:32. Huh… well… we'd been here a while.

I shifted my focus down the screen to read the banner: **Missed Call (1): Ady**.

"It's from Adyson," I told him, sitting up and rubbing my eyes. It was hard, adjusting back to reality after so long of only being engrossed in each other.

And, _oh boy_. The past hour and a half was just settling in my brain. I glanced back at Ferb, still lying on the bed. I had… and we'd just…

_Where the hell do we go from here?_

His eyes met mine again. I could see the same question reflected there, but before I could even start pondering an answer, we were interrupted again.

_Summer belongs to you. Summer—_

I slid my finger across the screen. "Hello?"

"_Isabella_?" came Adyson's voice, tinny because her cell phone always had the worst reception. Then she burst out sobbing.

"Adyson, what's wrong?"

I braced myself for what was sure to be a long-winded sob fest; Adyson had grown to be a bit of a party girl and was highly prone to drama. As troop leader, being a venting source for my girls went beyond mere obligations of friendship; it was my duty. Literally, "venting buddy" was in my job description in the Fireside Girl's handbook.

She began, and I adjusted to sit crisscross-applesauce, slumping my head in my hand. So what if it was juvenile; I'd probably be here a while.

Sensing my annoyance, Ferb wrapped his arms around my waist. He yawned into his pillow, but his thumb traced small circles on my hip. I didn't quite know what to do with how oddly intimate the motion was, how much it screamed _boyfriend gesture._ I wasn't used to this kind of affection, but I realized it could be dangerously addicting. As is, I couldn't stop my phone-free hand from moving to run through his hair.

Something in this moment was charged. It was anxious, edgy, but not in the unpleasant way we'd experienced these past few days. This was a different tense. A good kind of tense. A tingly from my brain to my toes kind of tense. I liked this.

Adyson had just finished her rant about her work. Apparently they were downsizing and they let her go today. That was too bad, since I knew she was saving up for college, but why was she calling me now?

"Ady, that sucks, but… I'm not sure if that constitutes a phone call at 4:30 in the morning."

"_I know,_" she replied, "_and I'm sorry to wake you, but—_"

I couldn't hold in my laugh. Wake me… if only_._

Ferb's eyes were closed, but he chuckled too.

"_Something funny?_"

"No, continue," I said quickly, pausing from brushing fingers through Ferb's hair to playfully smack him. The last thing I needed was for Adyson hear him. The rumor mill would never be stopped.

"_Um…_ _Where was I?_" she drawled.

I bit back my groan, and Ferb smiled at my torment.

"You were going to tell me why you called me at this ungodly hour to tell me you got fired."

"_Because that's not all that happened_," she cried back. "_You'll never believe what happened next!_"

She then proceeded to dive into Rant 2.0, and Ferb moved his hand to his mouth to hold in his laughter. I frowned at him; the Brit was getting entertainment out of my suffering!

At the current moment, I didn't know what I was the most annoyed with, Adyson's need to drag me into her drama, Ferb's mirth, or at the fact that, in order to hold it in, his arm was no longer around me.

Since his eyes were closed, he never saw the pillow coming. I smacked him in the face with it, and his muffled laughter stopped. Swatting the fluffy sac of feathers off his head, he glared up at me impishly.

I stuck my tongue out.

"_Isabella, are you listening to me?_" Adyson demanded, and my attention snapped back to the conversation.

"Yeah, yeah," I said, not shy to yawn into the phone. "You're having trouble with your _beeping _car that you thought your _beep-_head brother had _beeping_ fixed. I've got it. But you still haven't told my why we're talking about this at this _beeping_ time in the morning."

"_Yeah, I'm getting to that,_" she exclaimed indignantly. "_Because that's not all that's happened!_"

She continued on with her tail of woes, and Ferb propped himself up on one shoulder. He gave me a pitying look, and I rolled my eyes. Thus was the life of a Fireside Girl Head Councilor.

He looked like he might laugh again, so I picked up his spare pillow threateningly. In return, he raised his eyebrow defiantly, daring me to make a move.

I swung the pillow at him, but he moved lightening-quick. Before it could make contact with his face, I'd somehow been disarmed and pulled on top of him. I blinked and stared down at him, trying to piece together what exactly had just happened, when he smirked and brushed his lips against mine.

How the hell had he pulled that off?

The damn genius had bated me! He knew I could never back down from a challenge. So easily, he'd managed to tug the pillow free with one hand, grab my waist with the other, and _bam, _I was suddenly straddling him with his mouth against mine.

And yet… I didn't really feel the need to complain.

"_You okay?_" Adyson asked into my ear, and I immediately drew back.

"What?"

"_You yelped. Are you alright?_"

"Yeah," I said weakly, closing my eyes as Ferb ran his hands under the back of my cami again.

"_What are you _doing_?_"

"Oh you know…" I swallowed in an effort to sound completely normal. "Just grabbing a glass of water. I spilled a little, so I'm cleaning it up."

I felt Ferb shake underneath me with silent laughter, amused by my excuse. I glared at him.

"_Okay. But can you believe him?_"

_Him? _I'd missed something.

"Sorry, could you repeat the last part? I was a little… _distracted_." Then, because he was purposefully trying to mess with me, I shot him a look and added, "spilt water is _really_ annoying."

Ferb slid his hands from my back to the sides of my legs, and I bit my lip.

"_I _said," Adyson cried, "_that that two-timing, selfish, son of a—_" I pulled the phone away from my ear at the sudden volume. After her shouting softened, I brought it back. "…_With _two_ girls. Can you believe that? He's such an ass! Him and those whores deserve each other, if you ask me. I hope they go and—_" I pulled back again as her voice rose.

Boy, was she angry. Not that I could blame her at her most current news. I never liked the guy she'd been dating, but to find out he'd cheated on her with two other girls at once went way beyond Jerk status.

Ferb's hands had frozen during her outburst, so my voice was even when I asked, "and you just found out?"

"_Yeah, as in _just _now. That's when I left and I called you and now I don't even know what to do!_" Her anger fizzled down into uncontrollable sobbing again, and I cringed.

Part of me couldn't help but wonder what exactly Adyson had been up to with her now-ex-boyfriend at this time of night for her to discover that in the first place, but I chose to banish that thought. Some questions were better left unanswered.

I wasn't exactly Miss-Innocent tonight, either. Granted, Adyson had most likely been up to _far_ worse, but the fact that I was currently hovering over my green-haired best friend while his hands wandered my legs was pretty out there for me.

We'd reached the part of the conversation where Ady just needed to cry, so I pulled the phone away from my ear and let her bawl. This might take some time.

Ferb seemed to realize that, too. He slowly took the hand that I'd been using to prop myself up and off him, and dragged it out from under me. Meanwhile, his other hand pressed into my back, and I was suddenly falling forward, lying completely on top of him instead of being perched above.

"Better," he whispered, and I was happy that the phone was far enough from my mouth to miss the hitch in my breath.

I began kissing him again, less shy now to immediately take it deeper. At the start of the night, this type of kissing was completely new territory for me, but I'd caught on quickly. This sort of thing was dangerously easy if you just let your instincts take over.

After three minutes, Adyson wailed, "_Oh, Isabella, what should I do?_"

I surfaced for air and breathed, "forget the jerk," into the speaker.

This set off another howling tirade about all she had done for the _beeping_, _beeping _son of a _beep_, and Ferb took it as an opportunity.

In one swift movement, he rolled over. I was now underneath him, staring up into his eyes again. His hair was all over the place, which made me wonder what kind of rat's nest mine resembled right now.

The back part of my mind registered that Adyson was waiting for an answer to a question, and I responded, "no, I don't think you should vandalize his car."

Ferb looked down at me questioningly, and I rolled my eyes. _Adyson. _He nodded, and moved closer again, but he didn't attempt to kiss me like I'd expected.

Instead, he brought his lips to my neck, and my spine went rigid; this was a whole other level of _new territory_, but I immediately liked it.

_Oh god_, did I like it.

I closed my eyes, surrendering myself to this unknown feeling. The increasingly aggressive pressure of his lips against that exceptionally sensitive skin, coupled with the impossibly hot chill from his breath...

I moaned. Loudly.

Ferb immediately pulled back, staring at me with wide eyes. My hand clamped down over my mouth, and I could feel my face burn with a blush more intense than I'd ever achieved before. I couldn't believe I'd just done that.

"_Isabella?_"

"Just stretching," I shot back to Adyson. That appeased my friend on the phone, and she continued her lamentations.

Ferb looked massively amused, raising his eyebrow at me as if to say, _so, uh, care to explain what just happened, there?_

I shook my head vigorously, beyond mortified by the response his actions had elicited. Not that it did any good. He didn't need an answer from me to know exactly what was going on in my head and why I'd responded the way I did.

He smiled, part smug and part stunned. Then, with tantalizingly slow movements, he came back down to my neck. His lips hovered just over the surface of my skin, and my free hand automatically clamped down on the front of his shirt. He'd barely even started kissing me again before I started trembling.

So. Freaking. Embarrassing. But god, did it feel good.

He didn't make it too far in his actions, though, because that's when Adyson dropped the bomb.

"_Hey, Isabella, I'm outside. Would you let me in?_"

* * *

><p>RR please! In honor of the longest chapter yet? ^.^

Well now… when I said progress earlier, I meant it! Isabella finally just went with how she was feeling and they ended up here, with shmexy times.

And… this was the first make out scene I've ever written. Seriously, I'd never written a kiss before the ones in this story, and this was legit my first make out session. Did I do alright? Too much? Did you like it? Constructive criticism is welcome, but no flames please!

Thanks for reading, and see you next chapter!

Love, Lilly-Belle


	21. Interruptions

_Disclaimer: I do not own Phineas and Ferb._

* * *

><p>CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE:<p>

Interruptions

**FERB**

Listening to Adyson through the other end of the phone had been an interesting experience tonight… or this morning, I guess. Not so much because of what she'd been saying—she'd seriously had a rough day—but because of the multiple opportunities it presented to tease Isabella.

Words could not express how much I loved the way her voice quivered when she spoke to her friend because of my touch, how she leaned and arched into me.

Of course, I was careful not to take things so far as to clue Adyson in on what was happening on this side of the phone. It was exciting… this struggle to maintain our previous intimacy without getting caught.

Luckily, Adyson had always been a rather self-interested girl, and probably wouldn't think twice about any noises Isabella made in the presence of such a major personal crisis. Which was good when I swatted away the assault-pillow and pulled Isabella on top of me. Ady swallowed the spilt water excuse like… well… a glass of water.

At any given point, I feared Isabella would shut me down, would realize just what she had been doing for the past hour and a half, and just with whom she'd been doing it, and she'd run. She'd hate me forever.

I most certainly hadn't expected her to unreservedly switch back and forth between offhandedly responding to Adyson and intensely kissing me.

I rolled around, needing to feel her underneath me again. Adyson started calming down now, looking more for advice.

"No, I don't think you should vandalize his car," Isabella sighed in an exasperated voice.

I figured Isabella would probably need her mouth for talking now that Adyson was asking questions, but that wasn't a problem for me; her neck was frustratingly unexplored.

And _holy hell… _I was at once absolutely and indefinitely stunned at the kind of reaction this brought. Her eyes clamped shut and she arched into me hard, which was sexy enough, but it didn't end there. Despite the fact that she was on the phone, or that we'd been generally keeping things quiet, Isabella moaned, loud enough that I could feel her vocal cords vibrating under my lips.

I instantly pulled back, my eyes filled with shock at the fact that I… that _I _had just elicited that kind of noise from her. She looked embarrassed beyond belief, but I couldn't help but feel… a little smug, honestly.

This was physical proof of something I had begun to doubt a few days ago; the attraction between us was mutual. I could have some semblance of an effect on her like she did on me. When she shot Adyson a quick excuse—stretching, _please_—I couldn't hold the amusement from my face.

I'd never seen Isabella so flustered before. It was exhilarating.

I moved in again, teasing her by slowly breathing on her neck. Her fist clenched my shirt, and her breath grew unbelievably ragged. _Well, hot damn, Isabella was a neck girl. _I could work with this.

I'd only begun kissing under her jaw, savoring the way she started trembling underneath me, when something Adyson said froze us both cold.

"_Isabella_?" came her voice. "_Did you hear me_?"

Isabella cleared her throat, resolutely refusing to look at me. "That depends. Did you just say you were _here_?"

"_Yeah. I'm just outside your house._"

"You realize I'm not _at_ my house, right?" Isabella replied, running her finger down the center of my chest.

"_Oh yeah…_" Adyson sniffed._ "I forgot you've been at your boyfriend's house these past two weeks_."

Isabella's finger stopped, her eyes flashing to mine. It was my turn to look away, trying to ignore the reference to my younger brother. That was the last thing I needed.

"Something like that," she mumbled into the phone.

"_I guess that explains why you didn't come when I rang your doorbell, huh?_" Adyson hiccupped, her voice still patchy from all of her crying. "_Well I don't want to bother Phineas' parents. Would you_—"

"And Ferb," Isabella cut back.

"_What?_"

"You said 'bother Phineas' parents'. You forgot Ferb." I stared down at her in surprise, but she was absently watching the clock on the other side of the room.

By now, I was used to people only referring to Phineas even when we were both present. I liked to mentally joke that, in pronunciation, the "_and Ferb"_ part of "_Phineas and Ferb"_ was silent… since I was always silent. Something about Isabella snapping at Adyson for leaving me out… something about it really struck home.

"_Well, yeah, of course,_" Adyson droned, "_that's what I meant. But would you please do me the biggest favor? Pleaaaase?_"

"Oh, trust me," Isabella laughed, "I'm doing you a bigger favor right now than you realize."

"_Can we sleepover at your house?_"

"Wait, _what_?" Isabella's eyebrows furrowed, and she tapped twice on my chest, signaling me to get up. Grudgingly, I obliged, and she sat up, swinging her legs over the side of the bed.

"_Well…_" Adyson started guiltily, "_I kind of told my mom I was staying over at your house tonight anyway. That's when I snuck over to see what will only be referred to as _The Ex_. So I can't go home, and I really need support right now_."

"You used me as a cover so you could—"

"_Yes, I know! I know I suck_," Adyson sniffled pitifully, which I knew would win Isabella over. She'd always been tenderhearted. "_But I really need you right now, Isabella. Please."_

There was a long moment of silence on both ends of the phone before Isabella exhaled.

"Are you officially declaring a _Code Cookie Dough_?"

I tried not to laugh; was that actually a real thing in the Fireside Girl Handbook? Would they really lament their problems over a tub of raw cookie dough? That seemed way too cliché to actually be true.

"_Yes,_" Adyson said slowly, "_yes, I'm calling a _Code Cookie Dough… _please."_

"Fine," Isabella sighed. "I'll be right over."

With that, she hung up.

* * *

><p><strong>ISABELLA<strong>

I resisted the urge to drop-kick my phone out the window. I didn't want to run over to my house to listen to Adyson cry all night! No doubt she'd invite the other Fireside Girls too, then I'd have to listen to the whole rant from the beginning. I wanted to sleep! Or… not sleep for a little while longer, but _here_!

"I have to go over to my house and play impromptu-morning-party-hostess," I said to Ferb short-temperedly. I got up and stomped around the room in search of my jacket. "I love Adyson, I've known her for years, and I'm happy she trusts me enough to come to me with her problems, but I swear—"

Ferb put his hand on my shoulder, and I turned to face him. He was holding my white hoodie.

"Thanks," I muttered, slipping it on. "I'm sorry about all of this."

He laughed. "We have the worst luck."

"No joke."

"How many times have we been interrupted now?"

"I've lost count." I zipped the jacket up halfway. "Have you seen my house keys?"

Ferb crossed to the nightstand and plucked up the object in question. I smiled and went to grab them, but he held them back, as if for ransom.

"Every time we make some progress, we get interrupted. I don't—" he sighed, "Isabella, I don't want you to slip away again. We have to talk about this. Especially after… after all of _that._ We have to talk."

For our "talk", I took his face and pulled it to mine, my stomach rolling over itself with butterflies as soon as our lips met. I had to stand on my tiptoes to reach him, but after a second, his arms wrapped around my waist to help hold me up.

It didn't last long, but I hoped it was enough to ease his worries. I agreed we had a lot to talk about, but I didn't want to take too long and make Adyson suspicious.

"I know, but I do have to go. Believe me when I say I don't want to." Of their own will, my eyes drifted back down to his lips… but I shook my head to clear it. "I promise I won't slip away this time."

I plucked my keys out of his hand and turned to head out the door, when he grabbed my arm.

"Um, Isabella?"

I turned. "Yeah?"

"You, uh…" he faltered, his cheeks bright red.

"What?"

"Your… your hair."

"Oh my god," I giggled, having forgotten all about my wild mane. "How bad is it?"

In response, he only chuckled.

I snorted. "That bad, huh?"

"It… well, _I _think it's beautiful, but…"

I felt myself blush. "But…"

"Let's just say it would be a dead giveaway for our… activities tonight."

I laughed and breathed out an embarrassed, "oh." I quickly crossed the room and grabbed a spare hairband from my toiletries bag, pulling my frenzy of black locks up in a sloppy bun. I turned to Ferb, giving him my best _tada! _ stance for his approval.

"Personally, I'd be fine letting the world see my handiwork," he hummed, cupping my cheek, "but I suppose it will do."

With that, he brushed his lips against mine, gently, and just once, before letting me go.

"See you later," he breathed, and I was surprised by the sheer amount of willpower I had to use to pull away and turn around.

I grumbled under my breath—babysitting Adyson was the last thing I wanted to do, especially after all of this. My ranting mutter lasted all the way down the stairs and out the door.

I made it into the baby rays of early morning and saw my friend sitting outside my house, just like she said. She really was a mess, which appeased some of my annoyance; she genuinely needed someone right now. Everything in her life blew up today, and anybody would need a shoulder to cry on.

So in what, then, laid the source of my irritation? I wasn't mad that Adyson could be superfluously dramatic. I wasn't mad that she automatically assumed I could always drop everything to help her. I wasn't mad that she "woke me up" at 4:30 in the morning and dragged me outside at five. I wasn't even mad she used me in a lie to her mother.

I was mad because she had interrupted.

Including the bits during the phone call, Ferb and I had made out for nearly two hours, and I was mad that we had to stop. I didn't know where all of this was going, or how it would work out, but… well, as embarrassing as it was, I _definitely_ wanted more.

Of course, I'd have to put all of that aside to comfort my friend. She didn't know what she'd interrupted tonight. How could she have?

Trying my best to banish Ferb from my mind, I took a deep breath and put on my best Fireside Girl Troop Leader smile as I approached the sobbing girl.

As it was, though, I couldn't stop some of her words from the phone call replaying in my head; _I forgot you've been at your boyfriend's house these past two weeks._ Adyson had just been teasing me about Phineas, like she'd done for years, but… maybe this time she was onto something.

_Boyfriend's house._

But that was ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous.

Right?

* * *

><p><em>RR please!_

_So for you Ferbella shippers out there… you finally have that fluffy progress you've been waiting for!_

_However!_

_Where will the fluff go? Like I've stated from the beginning, this is a shipping war. Phineas doesn't know yet. What will happen when he finds out? What is there to even "find out" right now? Will Ferb and Isabella figure it out? Delicious drama to come after __your fluffy nap. (MWA HA HA HA HAAAAA)_

_Review please :) If you guys promise to still review this chapter, I'll probably post another chapter tonight or tomorrow. Yay for quick updates!_

_~Lilly_


	22. Names

_TADA! Surprise update. Two on back to back! Are you getting enough (see what I did there XD)? Enjoy, guys!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Phineas and Ferb._

* * *

><p>CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO:<p>

Names

**ISABELLA**

"Oh, Ady, that jerk!" Gretchen cried, rubbing the crying girl's back as she concluded retelling what she'd already told me over the phone.

I had been right in my assumption that Adyson would call some of the other Fireside Girls to hear her story. After only ten minutes of being at my house, Gretchen and Ginger showed up, the latter sporting a half-full tub of cookie dough. No doubt the other members of the troop slept through the phone call, but would show up later today at some point in time.

Admittedly, I fell asleep off and on while Adyson lamented to Gretchen and Ginger, but, unlike them, I hadn't slept at all tonight. Which of course none of them knew.

"C-can we make… m-make some hot chocolate?" Adyson stuttered, her hands rubbing at her inflamed eyes.

Ginger nudged me with her knee, and I started, my head shooting up from my hand. I'd been dozing off again.

"Yeah," I exclaimed a little too loudly. I adjusted my volume. "Yeah, help yourself. Hot chocolate sounds nice."

Adyson sniffled and nodded, leaning into Gretchen for support as the two got up and left my room, heading to the kitchen. Gretchen was unbelievably sweet and a natural caregiver; Ady clung to that kind of attention in times like these.

My mind drifted to how nice that hot chocolate sounded right now. I was debating compromising my comfortable position to follow my two friends to the kitchen, but Ginger cut that off when she sat down next to me on my bed.

"So, what's going on?" she asked, her voice curious. I had been expecting this. For the past month—especially during the two weeks I'd stayed at Phineas and Ferb's house—she'd been calling me and pressing me for the details of my love life.

I always responded the same way; I told her that nothing new had happened between Ferb and I, and that, other than the occasional flirtatious comment or whatnot, both of us were trying to maintain a level of normalcy. I told her that nothing was going on, to which she'd usually give me a suspicious stare down, but let it go.

Telling her that now would be a lie.

"A lot," I said simply, lying back on my bed.

"You look exhausted," she observed, and I smirked. Apparently, my grin was more devious than I realized, though, because she giggled. "Holy crap, what's that look for?"

In the midst of listening to Adyson's rants and wailings, I'd overlooked the fact that maybe I needed someone to vent to, too. Everything I thought I knew or felt had been scrambled. I realized how desperately I wanted—maybe even needed—someone to talk to about this. And if that someone was anyone, I'd want it to be Ginger.

"Well, you know how you're always asking me if there have been any developments with Ferb?"

"And you always say no," she leaned forward, her eyes gleaming with anticipation. "Am I to take it that that's changed?"

I opened my mouth to respond, but no words came out. This was crazy embarrassing. What would I tell her? That I was all over the place? An emotional mess? Well, that was the truth, but that didn't mean I wanted to admit that. Thus, I merely covered my face with my hands and nodded.

"Oh my god!" Ginger squealed, grabbing my forearm and shaking it. "Tell me, tell me, tell me, _tell me!_"

I giggled and shook her off. Something about her bubbliness was comforting. She was acting like such a gossip-crazed teenage girl right now, and the positivity was nice. I wasn't massive about gossip, but there was something exhilarating about relationship talk with a close girlfriend.

I sat up and, after a deep breath, filled her in on everything, starting from when Ferb cornered me in the hallway the night Candace walked in on us. As I went along, I gained momentum, and the story came easier. By the time I finally ended—admitting with reddened cheeks exactly what I'd been up to when Adyson called—Ginger's eyes were like chocolate saucers.

After a minute, she finally mumbled, "_holy shit_."

I laughed. "Yeah, no joke, right?"

"Wait, so hold up," she brushed some of her long black hair behind her ear. "You, Isabella Garcia-Shapiro_,_ kissed Ferb?" I nodded. "As in, _you_ initiated it?" I nodded again. "And then the two of you made out on his bed?" Yet again, I nodded. "For two hours?" By now, my head was in a perpetual state of bobbing up and down. "And even secretly when Ady was talking to you on the phone?"

"Yes!" I exclaimed, my hands naturally flying to my face to hide the ever-growing shade of red. "Yes, just as I told you. Can we not make a big deal out of it?"

Even as I said the words, I knew they were futile.

"Not make a big deal out of it?" Ginger laughed. "Girl, you were getting _spicy_ tonight! How can you expect me _not_ to make a big deal out of it?"

"Oh god," I groaned, "please never, _never_ say 'getting spicy' ever again. Just, please."

"So are you two an item now?"

"What?!" I yelped. _An item?_ I had not been prepared for that question. Though I suppose I should have seen it coming.

"Are you and Ferb dating?" she restated uncompromisingly. I felt like a butterfly pinned for observation under the intensity of her stare.

"N-no," I stuttered, looking back down to my hands. "Of course we're not!"

Ginger was quiet for a long time—so long that I couldn't resist bringing my eyes back to her face. She was looking at me with an expression that was part quizzical and part… something else, something altogether unsatisfied.

"What?" I asked.

"Nothing," she sighed.

"You're disappointed." It wasn't a question.

"Well, to be honest," she took a deep breath, "I kind of ship it."

"You…" I scoffed, unable to believe my ears. "You ship it?"

"Yeah. Ferb and Isabella. Ferbella. It has a nice ring to it, don't you think?"

"What?" I was certain my face resembled something like red velvet cake right now: deep red in the center with a little ivory on top.

"Well it sounds better than Phinabella," Ginger giggled. "Ferbella. It has the b's connecting. It just sounds so… natural. _Ferbella_. I like it."

"Oh sure," I scoffed, sarcasm dripping from my tone so fiercely it was almost tangible. "Let's run my romantic future on that notion, shall we? If we're basing this off of names, I should just go find a guy name Portem."

"Portem?"

"Yeah. Then we could be Portabella, and we could ride off into the sunset together eating mushrooms!"

Ginger stared at me for three seconds, her face expressionless. Then, we couldn't help it; we both erupted into a fit of laughter, doubling over on the bed and giggling until our sides hurt.

"What's so funny?" Gretchen intoned as Adyson and her came back into the room, each holding two mugs of hot chocolate, and we worked to calm down.

Then Ginger and I looked at each other, and our laughing started all over again. My comment wasn't even that funny, but there was just something about best friends, sleepless nights, and relationship turmoil that gave even the most mundane of jokes an unparalleled level of humor.

"P-portabella mushrooms," Ginger finally wheezed in answer to Gretchen's question.

With a sigh of, "I don't even want to know_,_" Gretchen placed the two extra mugs on my nightstand. Once Ginger and I were in control again, we each took one. I savored the warmth drifting through the ceramic into my chilled fingers._ Hot chocolate: _the final defense against all of life's troubles.

"But guys," Adyson moaned, taking the opportunity to shift the attention back to herself, "what am I going to do? I thought I loved him."

Of course she did. Ady's definition of love was always flighty to say the least. But I put on a smile.

"It'll be fine. We're here for you," I assured. Gretchen nodded enthusiastically, but Ginger had adopted a contemplative look.

"You know," my Japanese friend said, slowly dragging a spoon through the contents of her mug, "it's okay if you don't love the person you thought you did."

Despite the hot liquid making its way to my core, I froze. _Oh no._

"So you thought you loved him," Ginger continued, her eyes meticulous to never drift in my direction. "There's nothing wrong with discovering that isn't actually the case."

"Yeah?" Adyson sniffed, oblivious to the intent of my best friend's words, or to the fact that they weren't even directed at her.

"Yeah. And I get it," Ginger took a sip from her mug. "You thought you loved him. I mean, you _really _thought you did for a long time. Now something comes along, and you realize it may not be true, but you still _want _to love him. It's what you know, what you're comfortable with, so—"

"Well maybe Adyson can't just move on so quickly," I cut in, my voice coming out sharp despite my efforts otherwise. "Maybe Adyson isn't so flighty as to drift whichever way the wind is blowing. Just because the wind is howling doesn't mean she can just change directions! If she loves him, she loves him.

Gretchen and Ginger awkwardly looked back at me. Adyson _was_ the type of person that would float along with whatever guy gave her attention, but whatever. And maybe I was in danger of overplaying my hand, but right about now I didn't care.

"Or maybe," Ginger replied, not even bothering to look at the crying girl anymore, "Adyson is just scared. Maybe she's not sure what all of us will think of her after all of this. Maybe she's scared she won't have support, but that's not true. We'll support Ady no matter what."

"Thanks, guys," Adyson whimpered, but I wasn't done yet.

"Fine, she has support. That doesn't mean she'll just go along with the wind because it feels good."

"But that's the point!" Ginger laughed like I'd just proven her point. "She'll go along with the wind _because it feels good._ Because she clearly likes the wind. She loves how it feels when it blows through her hair, how it sounds whooshing into her ears."

"That's not true," I snapped back.

"Oh yes it is. It doesn't take a brain surgeon to see what's clearly written on y—_Adyson's_ face, what's in her voice. She's crazy about the wind. She's just too freaking stubborn to see it."

"I can see that I like the wind," Adyson muttered, but I shushed her, my face heating up at Ginger's insinuations.

"She's not too stubborn. Just because the wind is there doesn't make it right."

"Oh really?"

"Yes, really! The wind is frustrating, and terrifying, and risky. It's ridiculous, and annoying, and wonderful, and infuriating, and… and… and impossible! It's just impossible!"

I'd barely managed to splutter that out before the looks on my friends' faces brought my rambling to a halt. Gretchen and Adyson looked confused, not that I could blame them. Ginger had adopted a smug smile that made me look down at my hands in defeat.

"Sometimes you have to let go of some of your stubborn control issues and go where the wind takes you," Ginger said calmly. Another minute of silence.

"If there's one thing you taught us, Chief," Gretchen began quietly, speaking for the first time since the start of my outburst, "it's that nothing is impossible for a member of our troop."

Thankfully, Gretchen looked right past my momentary hysteria, tactful enough not to pry unless I offered up information.

"I feel better after that," Adyson added on, taking a big gulp of her hot chocolate. "I get what you guys are saying; I have to look past this breakup and let my emotions be as free as the wind."

"Exactly," Ginger chuckled into her cup. Her eyes drifted back to my face, the satisfied look still glimmering in her dark irises. "You've got to be happy, Adyson. And you know exactly what makes you happy, what challenges you, what you want more of."

"Does she?" I whispered, staring intently at the swirl of almost-melted marshmallows floating on the surface of my hot chocolate.

"I think I do," Adyson hiccupped, finishing off the contents of her mug. "But how do I know for sure?"

"Well," Ginger sighed, relaxing into the throng of pillows that adorned my bed. Her eyes fluttered up, staring straight into mine. "You just need to stop focusing on _should. _No more _should be_ this or _should be _that. No more impossible, either. You keep focusing on that, and you'll miss what's been there the whole time."

She was right.

She was right about me being scared, about how I couldn't focus on all of these _should's_. She was right when she said I was crazy about the wind, and she was right that I had to do what made me happy. And she was right about names, too.

* * *

><p><em>RR please!_

_Tee hee! Ginger is a Fangirl! She ships! (*one of us, one of us*). I had fun with that._

_Now things are going so well! They're finally on the right track!_

_… … … that means things will have to be shaken up pretty soon, now won't they? Because nothing can ever be simple ^.^ Not next chapter, but I have a pretty darn exciting event planned._

_Lilly-Belle is out, peace!_


	23. Timing

_Okay… everyone freaked out over my "shipping war" message, so let me clarify. I won't be flip flopping or anything. I promise I've thought this out, and am not just having Isabella go from one boy to another frivolously. I'm working to establish the events to be within how I've set up their characters, and I think you guys will like it. By shipping war, I'm expressing the fact that I honestly love and support both shippings, and intend to provide a basis that may spur the same emotions in you guys. Thus far, it has been Ferbella, and no, I won't just dump the table and suddenly make it Phinabella, but there will be sweet Phinabella moments. And yes, there will be heartbreak, but it simply wouldn't be realistic if there was an ending with absolutely no pain. Just remember, it's all part of the plan!_

_Whew… sorry about the rant. I just wanted to set a few things straight. On a happier note, TO MY READERS/REVIEWERS: I LOVE YOU._

_Your reviews are so wonderful, guys, and I'm happy you're enjoying the story. Have fun with this new chapter!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Phineas and Ferb._

* * *

><p>CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE:<p>

Timing

**FERB**

Isabella said she wouldn't slip away, not this time, but her leaving to be with Adyson marked the start of a long run of not seeing her.

The first day was to be expected; in light of Adyson's personal crisis, the Fireside Girls were having a day to themselves. That was fine. Completely ordinary. She'd been spending a lot of time with Phineas and I, and her friends probably missed her.

The days of absence after that were not expected. As my luck would have it, Isabella's mum chose the afternoon of the girl's day to come home. And she brought a surprise: Isabella's cousin Daniela, and her new baby. Mrs. Garcia-Shapiro eagerly made plans for their family to spend the following four days together.

Thus was born my four days of over-analyzing hell.

It was a good thing my family was accustomed to zero verbal interaction, because I'm sure that any words from me would have come out quite cross.

In life, timing was everything. My realization of my feelings for my neighbor across the way, her moving in with us, my sister walking in on our conversation, Candace and Jeremy's engagement, our fight and subsequent make up make out session, and now Isabella's sudden deficiency in my life…

It was all in the timing, and Isabella and I were the worst with it. Interruptions and complications were rampant. It was maddening.

Of course, I still tried to make the most of every day of summer. Phineas and I made inventions, which was fun. Buford and Baljeet came over two of the four days. The bully was quick to jump on the "op_bro_tunity" for guy time, and I couldn't protest.

I rather enjoyed myself, but as I stated, I also couldn't refrain from overthinking everything. As much as I loved it, Isabella's kiss response to my demand that we talked was not quite enough. We had to actually sit down and figure things out without her running off or us being barged in on.

The fifth Isabella-free day rolled around, and I knew something was wrong the second I woke up. Maybe that was because I had just _woken up_, as in there was no buzzing drone of my alarm clock or my brother—with enthusiasm unbecoming for early morning—beckoning me to start the day. I'd woken up completely on my own.

With a groan, I rolled to on my side and looked at my clock. _9:44_? No wonder I was confused; Phineas usually demanded we get up around seven a.m. or, on rare occasions, eight. I got up and examined the clock, and saw that someone had turned off the alarm.

I checked in Phineas' room, but my brother was nowhere to be found. I went downstairs and checked the backyard. Empty. How curious.

It wasn't a big deal, of course. I could handle some alone time. In fact, after so long of constantly doing _something_, it was quite nice. I always had an affinity for Quiet; we were friends. But it still was peculiar.

I got myself a bowl of cereal and had just sat down at the table when Mum strolled into the kitchen. In one hand was a _#1 Mom _mug of coffee, and in the other was a newspaper.

"Good morning, Ferb," she said cheerily, spreading the paper out on the counter. "Did you enjoy sleeping in?"

I nodded, but didn't bother to hide my confusion.

"Your brother thought it would be nice to give you a day without an alarm clock." She took a sip of her coffee. "He knows you only get up so early because he likes it. He said he was 'giving you the day off.' Isn't that sweet?"

I tilted my head to the side, silently asking for further explanation. She let out an exasperated sigh.

"Ferb, sweetie, I'm used to Phineas doing all of your talking for you. You know I can't understand every face and gesture. Speak up."

I made a defiant, if not somewhat childish, face, but she remained stern. Never try to battle wills against my mum. You will lose every time.

"Why?" I voiced.

"See, Ferb? Was that so hard?" Mum smiled good-naturedly, and I scowled at her. She ignored it. "Phineas said he had plans, so he didn't want you to get up unnecessarily."

Out of habit, I started gesticulating, but Mum gave me a reproachful look.

"So, Phineas isn't here?" I mumbled.

"He left around an hour ago. Said something about owing Isabella an ice cream."

_Oh_. Her words felt like a punch in the gut.

So Phineas had jumped on an opportunity to hang out with Isabella, buying her ice cream. Just the two of them. Any girl other than our neighbor, and I would have been proud of my little brother, but this…

It was terribly ironic; _I _was the one that had held her, had kissed her, and somehow my romantically challenged little brother had had more dates with Isabella. I developed a distaste for irony.

I noticed Mum was watching me closely over her mug of coffee, and I cleared my throat.

"That's nice," I forced out.

"Looks like your little brother may finally be coming around, huh?"

"Looks like."

"Isabella will be thrilled, don't you think?" There was something I didn't quite understand in her voice. It sounded… calculated. That was something uncommon for my mum, even the rare times when we were in trouble. I couldn't tell where this was going.

"Yeah," I responded carefully.

"Do you think he'll ask her out?"

"Who knows?" I focused on keeping my face smooth, staring at my bowl of cereal.

"You do think she'd say yes, right?"

"What?"

My eyes darted up to her. She hadn't moved from her place at the counter, but I was surprised to see how intently she was looking at me.

"Do you think Isabella would say yes if Phineas asked her out?" she repeated unswervingly.

Mum knew about Isabella's long-standing crush on my brother; why would she even ask me that? I gulped.

"You know she's liked him forever."

"That's not actually an answer," she sang.

"It's a perfectly fine answer."

"So, you don't think she'd have any reason to say no to him, then?" She raised her eyebrow at me, and the words _oh shit_ trickled down my spine.

"Why are you asking me all of these questions?"

"Just curious, sweetheart," Mum laughed. She held her hands up in a placating gesture, but her voice still hummed with mischief. "No one knows Isabella better than _you_, right?"

Okay, what was _that_ supposed to mean? Then I remembered I paused midway through lifting a spoonful of milk and sugar to my mouth, and finally took the bite. I chewed slowly, my mind flitting through a dozen possible responses. Regrettably, I picked what was perhaps the worst.

"Phineas knows Isabella just as well as I do."

Mum was silent save for the occasional sound of her sipping coffee or turning a page of her newspaper. I felt awkward. I hoped my cheeks weren't red, but I was sure they were. I wasn't as oblivious as my little brother; the subtle accusations in my mum's voice didn't fall on deaf ears.

The question was, what did she know?

A full minute passed before she sighed and replied, "If you say so."

"I do. I do say so," I quipped back, which was stupid. It would have been better not to reply at all.

Mum crossed the room and put her hand on mine. "And what you say is important," she said pointedly, looking me straight in the eye. "_Your say_ is important. Just remember that, okay?"

I nodded, too muddled to say anything. With that, she kissed my forehead and left me to my empty bowl.

* * *

><p><strong>PHINEAS<strong>

I was happy to make good on my promise to buy Isabella ice cream, especially after I hadn't seen her in so long. She was a little confused when we didn't just drive to the ice cream parlor, but the day was so nice, it would have been a crime to miss out on being outside.

The entire way, we went back and forth. I talked about the inventions she'd missed, and Isabella gushed about her new second cousin, Camilla, lamenting over their separation yesterday evening when Daniela went back home to the Eastern Tri-State Area.

"Her face was still scrunched up, like a little bulldog, but she was so cute," she exclaimed as we made it in the door of the shop.

I always liked this old ice cream parlor. It was so quaint, and had an old-fashioned 50's feel, with white-tile floors and light pink walls.

"You grab a table," I directed, stepping into the line.

"Okay. I want—"

"One mint chocolate chip sundae coming right up," I cut her off, and she smiled, turning on her heel in hunt for a table. I ordered a cookies-and-cream waffle cone for myself—truly a classic—and, once the treats were obtained, I joined her at the spot she'd found.

"Bon appetit," I admonished, and she smiled.

"Thanks, Phineas." She scooped up a big bite, and I followed her example. She continued telling me a funny story about her cousin at the museum, and I listened contentedly.

However, I couldn't shake a little bug in the back of my mind. Ever since the night of the engagement, I tried to see what Candace had seen. Really, I did, but… I just couldn't. The following two days after I got Candace's text and before Isabella went back to her house, I considered my best friend and brother more carefully, but I found nothing odd, nothing that could be seen as flirtatious.

If anything, I'd say they had almost seemed cold.

I tried to get my sister to elaborate on what she'd been implying, but since she'd officially become the future Mrs. Johnson, she simply hadn't been around.

"Phineas?" Isabella queried, her head tilting to the side. "Did you hear me?"

"Sorry, what?"

"I asked you where Ferb was." The forever-analytical part of my brain noted the tone of her voice was completely casual. Had I expected anything else when she brought up my brother?

"Right," I laughed. "But hey, I promised _you_ ice cream, not Ferb. If I go around buying ice cream for everyone, I'd go broke."

Isabella nodded slowly.

"Did he not want to come?" She scooped up a big glop of green goop and put it in her mouth.

"No, I actually just decided to let him sleep in. He's been quieter than usual this week, which is saying something for Ferb," I chuckled. "I think a little sleep will do him some good."

"Really?" she giggled. "What does 'being quieter' even look like for Ferb?"

Huh. Part of me wished Candace had never said anything, because now I couldn't stop wondering if Isabella was being a little too interested in Ferb right now. She wasn't, right?

"Well, you know, his usual silence seeps out from the mere absence of his voice to create this dense aura of _quiet_."

"Dense aura of quiet?" she snorted into her sundae. "Sounds about right."

Then something occurred to me; why could I not simply ask Isabella about her and Ferb?

I was not the type of person that could handle not knowing something; uncertainty was unbefitting for my curious mind. I could just ask her, couldn't I? I mean, sure, it'd be strange, but… wasn't that better than not knowing? The awkward factor of asking my best friend if something was going on between her and my brother was better than trying to piece it together myself, right?

"Hey, Isabella, can I ask you something?"

"You just did," she said sarcastically, and I held back my laugh.

"Using my own line against me, huh?" I brandished my cone at her. "Touché, Isabella Garcia-Shapiro. Touché."

"Now you know how it feels." She rolled her eyes. "But seriously, you know you can ask me anything."

"Of course," I agreed, eyeing a particularly delicious looking chunk of cookie in my ice cream. "Because we're best friends, and we can talk about stuff." I slowly took a bite, taking my time before I swallowed. "Even… even if it's awkward, right?"

Her spoon dipped back down into her bowl, where it stayed. Her expression was suddenly a mixture of puzzlement, curiosity, and gravity. Her voice was softer when she replied.

"Yeah, that's, uh… that's what best friends do, Phin. Anything."

I nodded, deliberating how to phrase my next question. I didn't want it to come across as an accusation or something that was bothering me. Definitely not the latter, because her answer wasn't even a big deal. I was just curious. I just wanted to know. That's all.

"Well…" I hesitated. On second thought, maybe this was something I should actually ask Ferb. He was my brother, after all. But I'd already brought it up with Isabella. She'd expect me to follow through. Oh boy, what would I say?

"Hey Isabella, hey Pointy," came a gruff voice behind me. "What'cha doing?"

"Ayee, are you mad?" came a secondary voice, higher and panicked. "You know what happened the last time you used her line!"

_Saved by the bell… or bully. _I laughed and turned around to see Buford and Baljeet, holding a banana split and vanilla waffle cone respectively.

"Watch it, Byoof," Isabella said with an evil smile. Her eyes gleamed with playful malice, and Buford quickly backtracked.

"Hey, Isabella, you—you know I don't mean anything by it," he stuttered. "It's just so catchy. It slipped out!"

Isabella held her hand up to silence the bully. "I'm feeling generous today," she said with an unnerving calmness. "I'll let it slide."

Baljeet and I couldn't hold back our snickers, resulting in a baleful look from Buford. He pulled out the chair next to me and huffily sat down, plunging a spoon into the banana in his bowl.

"Hey, Buford, want to sit down?" I muttered sarcastically.

"Obviously," the bully replied. "That's why I did."

Baljeet shuffled awkwardly to the chair next to Isabella, but he didn't sit. His eyes darted nervously from her face to mine.

"Is this, uh… is this bad timing?" he asked nervously.

"Why would it be bad timing?" I took a bite of my cone, watching him.

"Well," Baljeet started slowly. He was antsy. More so than usual, that is. He kept looking at Buford like maybe the two of them shouldn't be here. "We are not… interrupting anything, are we?"

Interrupting? Well, I had been about to open my mouth and ask Isabella a really stupid and embarrassing question. I was okay with them interrupting right now. I met my neighbor's eyes as she waited for my reply, and I shrugged.

"No," Isabella chuckled dryly. "You can sit down, 'Jeet."

Our Indian friend stared at the girl across from me like he was surprised—dumbstruck, even—by her response, but he quickly took a seat.

"Man, it's just good to see things are back to normal," Buford sighed, taking a bite so big I wondered how he didn't get sick.

"What do you mean?" I inquired.

"I mean… _this_," Buford mumbled, his mouth still full of ice cream. He motioned his with his spoon back and forth between Isabella and I. "You two. Things got a little weird there for a while, but at least they're back to normal now, am I right?"

Isabella and Baljeet both froze mid-bite, their mouths gaping.

"My mom says I don't handle change well," the bully continued, prepping another monstrous bite. "The weirdness factor at your guys' house was giving me the willies. We couldn't figure out what the hell was going on, right, Baljeet?"

"Do not drag me into this!" the Indian yelped.

"What are you talking about?" I asked, feeling my eyebrows furrow.

"I forgot who I was talking to," Buford muttered.

"To whom you were talking," Baljeet corrected under his breath, but I ignored him, focusing on Buford's comment instead.

"What does that—"

Buford waved his hand dismissively. "You'll figure out when you're older."

When I was _older_? Was Buford calling me naive?

I got this weird feeling inside of me, looking at all three of my friends. I couldn't shake the notion that there was something going on here… something I didn't understand. Every comment brought with it a sense of uneasiness, of unanswered questions.

Before I could ask anything to clarify, though, mint chocolate chip ice cream was suddenly splattered all over the bully's face.

I gawked for half a second before looking back at Isabella, her hands still holding her spoon like a catapult.

"That was mean," was all she said.

With slow movements, Buford grabbed a napkin and started wiping the ice cream off his face. Though the bully never picked on Isabella, he'd always had a short fuse. I met Baljeet's eyes; he, too, looked fearful of what might happen next, but Buford only laughed.

"Okay, Girlie, I can respect that."

"You deserved it," she replied, her gaze drifting to intently look out the window.

Unease. That's what I felt right now. It felt like I was in the middle of some massive inside joke, one that could possibly be at my expense.

I never felt uncomfortable around people, let alone my friends. The fact that I felt on edge right now made me feel even more agitated, because I wasn't the type of person to be on edge in the first place. I didn't like this.

"I feel like I'm missing something," I stated, staring at each of my friend's faces in turn. They stared right back.

"What?" Baljeet finally squeaked.

I finished the last bit of my ice cream and folded my hands in front of me. "I feel like I'm missing something," I repeated, unwavering. "What do you guys know that I don't?"

I looked to Buford, who looked to Baljeet. Baljeet looked to Isabella, who just looked dazed.

"Guys?" Buford and Baljeet were both staring at Isabella now, completely silent. I followed their example, my eyes resting on the girl in front of me.

If I weren't mistaken, her cheeks were rosy. She'd always turned pink easily, at the slightest embarrassment. Did that mean whatever I didn't know was embarrassing?

"Isabella?" I prompted again. "What don't I know?"

* * *

><p><em>RR, please! Yay for reviews!_

_I'm loving the Linda feels. Looks like she's onto something! Tee hee!_

_Sorry about the cliffhanger. Well… not really. You guys have fun with that._

_I love you, darlings, for taking the time to read my prattle! Take care, now!_

_~Lilly-Belle_


	24. Breakdown

_Disclaimer:I do not own Phineas and Ferb._

* * *

><p>CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR:<p>

Breakdown

**ISABELLA**

Buford was going to die. It was that simple. I was going to kill him, and then spend the rest of my embarrassed days in prison for murder.

Phineas had asked me a question, and I couldn't say a word. My tongue cowered dryly behind my sealed lips, and I imagined I could feel my throat slowly closing.

His distraught look… that was the worst part, crashing into my gut and tearing it into ribbons. I never wanted to be the reason for another person to be upset, let alone one of my boys. He was actually _troubled_ by Buford's comments, desperate to not be left out of the loop. It was heartbreaking.

"Isabella?" Phineas leaned forward, his face still pinched with confusion and concern.

I didn't speak; I couldn't. I was too busy watching my life unravel in slow motion. Was this, _this_, how he would find out? Did years of keeping my secret and hoping he would notice my feelings on his own really come down to _right now_?

"Isabella?" Phineas aksed, waving his hand in front of my face. "Did you hear me?"

I nodded, but still said nothing. _He looks so perturbed_. _Phineas is never supposed to look perturbed_. _And it's my fault. I am the reason for his unease._ My mind wouldn't shut up long enough for words to be formed.

_What don't I know?_ The implications behind that question… the realizations there… the complications…

My brain was broken.

Thankfully, the other boys at the table came to their senses.

"Buford was just talking about Isabella staying with you guys," Baljeet invented wildly. "It was weird, so it is good to see things are back to normal."

"Right," Buford agreed.

Phineas stared down at his hands, and I wondered if he suspected the boys were lying. After two seconds, though, he shrugged it off and looked back up to me.

"Now it's weird not having you there," he admitted, his eyes oddly piercing. "I got used to having you around 24/7."

"Bet you did," Buford muttered out of habit, and I kicked him in his shin. Hard. Not that it did any good.

Phineas' eyebrows crinkled again, which was alarming. For years now, Buford had made thousands of these kinds of comments—most of which were exponentially more suggestive than these.

So why was today different? When did Phineas suddenly become less oblivious?

Then, because the universe had apparently taken it upon itself to be as disruptive as absolutely possible in the most thoughtful or intense parts of my life, all of our phones went off. Four buzzes, at the same time.

It was almost humorous, how mechanically we all started reaching for our phones. Phineas was the first to succeed.

"It's from Adyson," he stated, staring down at his screen.

_Oh god, more complications,_ I thought, snatching my phone from my purse. I quickly scanned the text, fearful of what was going on with her now.

**Hey, guyyys! You're all invited to my Summer Bash! PARTY TIME! Just our friend group and a little fun! Tonight! Be there or be… a bad friend, because I need a party right now… … … Jk. But seriously, see you soon!**

"Paaaaaaaaar-tay!" Buford bellowed, and everyone else in the ice cream parlor stared. Once they saw it was Buford, though, they continued on indifferently; we were all used to his antics.

Then our phones went off again.

**Derp a derp! I'm a spaz. My house. Starts at six and goes till we drop! I've already got confirmations, soooooo if you don't come, you're a weirdo!**

I counted to ten, and sure enough, our phones buzzed again.

**Oh! And pizza! Loooooooots of pizza! Want to come now? Thought so! See you tonight! Kisses, Adyson.**

I rolled my eyes. Adyson was just so… Adyson.

"I actually was going to do some reading tonight, so—"

"Oh no, nerd," Buford cut Baljeet off, jabbing a stubby finger at him. "We're going to that party even if I have to drag you there by your underpants."

"Thanks for that mental image," Phineas laughed, standing up. "I'll be right back."

He took off to the bathroom, and as soon as he was out of earshot, my frantic mind clasped on to the only output I had for my anxiety; I turned my deadliest glare onto Buford.

It was delightful watching all of the color drain from his face.

"L-listen, Isabella" he stuttered, "I didn't—I-I swear, I didn't—"

"You ass," I hissed. The venom in my voice was almost tangible enough to drip from my mouth and eat through the table. "You goddamn ass. You fu—"

"Whoa," Baljeet shrieked. "PG-13, please!"

I turned my scowl to him, and he got my message; unless he wanted the full force of my fury, he should lay low.

"If it weren't for the mortal terror, I'd be so proud of your foul language right now," Buford muttered.

_Snap. _My spoon was now in two pieces.

"B-but I'm sorry. I'm very, very sorry."

"You have to admit it was weird," Baljeet noted in the bully's defense. "You know he has said far worse on a daily basis. How could he have known that Phineas would magically catch on to something today?"

His words hung in the air, slowly drifting into our ears to be processed. My anger drained out of me, resonating into a building sense of alarm. _Phineas would magically catch on to something today._

"You don't actually think that Dinner Bell could be… you know, figuring things out, do you?"

_Could he be?_

"I think that is true." Baljeet put a hand on my shoulder, and I looked up to meet his smile. "Obviously something is different. Maybe he is starting to realize his feelings. This is great!"

_Was it?_

My head was spinning with that idea… that Phineas may finally be coming around. I had to admit there'd been an increase in his attention, his compliments, and now, after how he reacted to Buford's comments, his awareness.

But why did this have to happen now, of all times? When I was more confused than ever? When there was Ferb, who was so wonderful and so ready and so _there_?

But, Phineas! _Phineas…_ he was all I'd ever wanted.

What had I gotten myself into? _What had I gotten myself into?_ It was a car crash on the side of the road, it was a tragedy you had to watch despite knowing its ending, it was a fire consuming a building—hot, beautiful, and terribly destructive.

I did not know how to handle this.

"Isabella?" Buford asked for what I realized was the fourth time.

I did not know how to handle this!

"Are you okay?"

I stared at him uncomprehendingly.

"Isabella," Baljeet said slowly, his voice suddenly cool and deliberate. "What are you not telling us?"

That pushed me over the edge.

Panic swelled up inside of me, weaving the ribbon that was my gut through my ribcage and tying a knot around my heart. I couldn't handle this! I couldn't handle the embarrassment, the idea that Phineas was catching on, that he looked so upset when he didn't understand, that Baljeet and Buford were suspicious now, that Phineas would be back any second and wonder what was wrong with me too, that_ there was no happy ending to this._

I shoved the remains of my sundae over to Buford and stood up.

"Of course I'm alright." Then, in one breath, I rushed, "But I just remembered I needed to help my mom with something, and I promised I'd be there by now, so I really have to go, and I'm really sorry, but you'll have to tell Phineas, but feel free to keep hanging out, and please tell him not to worry, but that my mom needed me, so I'm leaving."

Panic was a cruel, cruel thing to the tongue.

"What?" Both boys looked like they'd been run over by a verbal freight train, but I grabbed my purse.

"Don't worry, I'm fine. See you later!" I was out the door before another word could be said.

I was gone—my mind unable to provide direction, but my feet moving just the same. I ran. I was wearing a skirt, but I ran. I didn't know where I was going, but I still ran.

And I ran and I ran and I ran.

And, because I had my two geniuses on the brain, the only thing I could think of was Galileo, of his relevance to my life right now, of the importance of timing, and of that one saying of his… _nevertheless, it moves._

_How can this possibly end well?_

From there, my composure only unraveled.

* * *

><p><strong>FERB<strong>

I was surprised to see Adyson's text. She'd been pretty mopey these past few days about her break up, but this invite suggested she was past that. Obviously she'd moved on to the whole, _I'm so over *insert name here* that I'm going to party like crazy!_ stage of post-relationship trauma.

It should make for a fun night, though. It was at least a guarantee that I'd get to see Isabella, since I would most likely end up chauffeuring my brother and her. I was dying to spend time with her… more so than I wanted to admit.

I rushed down the hall, intending to hunt Mum down upstairs and tell her about Adyson's party, but I nearly ran into her at the bottom of the stairs.

"Whoa, sweetie, slow down," she laughed, tightening her grip on the load of laundry in her hands. "Where's the fire?"

I smiled apologetically and shrugged, holding my phone up to show her the invite.

"Oh, that sounds like fun. Parties aren't usually up Phineas' alley, though."

I shrugged again.

"If Phineas doesn't go, does that mean you'd just take Isabella?" She smiled pleasantly, but there was something else to her words.

_This strangeness again? _I cleared my throat.

"I'm sure Phineas will come. It's just our usual friend group."

Mum was quiet, staring me down in a way that only mothers could manage. I had a feeling the disapproval in her brow wasn't at all related to the party.

"So was I wrong, then?" she asked, her voice incongruously wily.

"What?"

"To assume you'd made progress?"

I tilted my head at her.

"Between the two of you."

Apprehension crept its way up my throat, but I replied, "I don't know what you're talking about."

Mum sighed.

"And here I thought you'd already realized your feelings. Is that _not_ what's been happening these past two months?"

I choked on air. Only three words could describe my feelings right now: _horrified _and _oh shit._

"H-how—?" I spluttered.

"Ferb, sweetie," she chuckled. "I may not have given birth to you, but I'm still your mom. And rule number one about parenting: moms know everything."

I raised my eyebrow at her.

"_Everything,_" she emphasized.

"But—"

"I've known how you felt far longer than you have, apparently," she tittered. Then, almost to herself, she mumbled, "I wonder what I did to raise such oblivious sons."

I could do nothing but continue to stare. Mum always said there was a special place in hell for those who murder and those who lie to their mothers… but _denial_ was a different story altogether, right?

"I… I still don't know what you're talking about."

"Okay then. Let me fill you in."

_Oh no._ I'd made a grave mistake. I should have known better with my mum. She never was shy, and always laid things out with a quick-fire bluntness. I was going to hell, and she knew it.

"You like Isabella. You have for a long time, but you haven't realized it until late. And now my baby is struggling because he knows—just like everyone else in Danville except my _other_ baby—that Isabella has always been crazy about _him_."

"Oh, please stop," I groaned, my head slumping into my hand. She'd proven her point; I was busted. So very, very busted.

"But you said you didn't know what I was talking about," she said good-humoredly. She was _evil. _"I'm just fixing that problem." _Evil._ "Then Isabella moves in with us—I do suppose that complication was my fault, but at the time I didn't realize how much things had progressed—and during these past couple of weeks, what do I notice?"

It was a rhetorical question; in response, I rolled my eyes.

"That's right, I notice a teenager who apparently hasn't learned his lesson about sassing his mother ten seconds ago, and thinks it's okay to roll his eyes at me!"

I scoffed, and she continued.

"But I digress. What do I notice? You're antsy. You're nervous. You're secretive. You're frustrated. _And_," she stressed, and I tried not to cringe, "you're a lot happier, too."

My head snapped up and I met her eyes. Her teasing smile had softened into the kind, genuine one I loved. The one that felt like a hug every time it flashed across her face.

"What are you saying?" I tried to ask, but it barely came out.

Mum sighed. "Sweetheart—"

The sound of keys in the front door stopped her short, and we both looked toward the entryway. My heart may have stopped beating right then and there.

Isabella Garcia-Shapiro walked in.

The spare key we'd given her years ago was clutched in her hand, and as soon as she was in the door, she slumped over, completely out of breath.

"I've got laundry to do," my mum sang, and, to my absolute horror, she winked at me before disappearing up the stairs. This… that… uh… … … I would have to deal with the Mum Situation later.

I rushed to the entryway.

"Isabella? Are you okay?"

She held her finger up as if to say _one minute_, while she caught her breath.

It was confusing. She definitely wasn't in running clothes. Far from it. She was wearing a white pleated skirt and that red top I loved. Her hands clung to her knees as she panted, but there was something altogether _wrong_ about all of this.

Although not excessively athletic, Isabella wasn't out of shape. And her breathing wasn't the mere huffs of air one would take after becoming winded, but sporadic gasps that quivered and jumped from her throat. No 'just a minute' gesture would atone for what bothered her.

She shook her head wildly, beyond words. Her eyes were wide, her shoulders shaking, and I realized that she was bordering on hysteria.

"Love, what's wrong?"

My hands found her upper arms, and she instantly melted into me. She was trembling so fiercely I pulled her into the living room, falling with her onto the couch.

I held her for some time, not a word spoken on either end, while she tried to pull herself together. Finally, she drew back.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, her hands retracting from my torso to run through her hair. "I'm sorry, I'm just a wreck."

"What happened? Did Phineas—"

"No," she quickly assured. "No."

I was half pleased and half disappointed with this answer, confirming my notion that I was indeed a terrible person.

She stuttered over the events at the ice cream parlor—about how Phineas had noticed Buford's remarks, caught on to the fact that maybe he was missing something, and then Buford and Baljeet's worried questions while Phineas was gone.

Which only served to confuse me further.

"I don't understand why you're so upset."

"Because Phineas is coming around, and people are getting suspicious, and I don't know what to do!"

"Okay… but why are you so freaked out by that?"

"Because!" she snapped, hiding her face in her hands. I grabbed her wrist and forced them away.

"Because, why?"

She breathed heavily, in and out. She squeezed her eyes shut, whimpering, "Because I'm not built for this."

"Built for what?" I asked as gently as possible.

"For…" She seemed like she was searching for the answer herself. She was perfectly aware of how irrational her panic was right now, and yet it was still there. I didn't think she'd discovered the source of it any more than I had. "Oh I don't know!"

I took her hand, running my thumb across each knuckle.

"I think… I think I'm scared," she finally said, her voice breaking and rising all at once. "I'm scared, and stressed, and I can't handle this. I don't know how to handle this, what to do. I-I can't—"

Her voice quivered to a stop. She tried to hide her face again, but I wouldn't let her.

"What are you scared of?"

She started breathing more quickly, shaking her head.

"Isabella, talk to me."

"I'm fine."

"You're not fine," I almost laughed, disbelieving that she would even try to tell me otherwise.

"Yes I am."

"Isabella—"

"It's fine."

"_Tell me._"

Although my voice wasn't harsh, she flinched.

"I… I'm _scared_…"

Her breaths quickened, alarmingly so.

"Of _what?"_

"Of… of not having any control," she admitted to her feet, the look of dread and self-loathing in her eyes hard to witness. She pulled her arms from my grasp and wrapped them around her chest, like the confession of a weakness would suddenly tear her apart.

And I realized it very well could. Just that one utterance, and something in my girl broke.

"Control, Ferb!" she rasped, the remnants of her composure dying on the spot. "I'm always in control. I'm a control freak. Control is my friend! And we understand each other, and I need it, because without it life is unstable and unpredictable and _uncontrollable!"_ Her hands slipped up to crazily run through her hair. "And I don't have it and I'm far from having it, and I can't handle that, and that only hurts people, and I can't do anything, and… and…"

Two tears finally tipped over the ridge of her eyes and trailed down her cheeks. That was it—only one drop for each eye—but tears wouldn't have worried me. Tears were normal for her. This… this was scarier.

She was hyperventilating.

"Isabella…" I soothed, cupping her cheeks and forcing her to look at me. "Love, you have to breathe."

She tried to pull away, but I held her fast.

"Breathe," I demanded again.

She nodded.

"I can't—I can't—I d-don't—" Rattled gasps racked her body, much too quick. "I-I don't—don't know… how to make this okay. How t-to make everyone happy. I need to make everyone happy, but I don't… I don't…"

"Isabella," I leaned forward and pressed my lips against her forehead. "Always fretting over other people's problems. It's not your job to make everyone else happy. You can't live like that. You've got to focus on what makes _you_ happy."

"I'm h-happy when you guys are happy, and… and I couldn't s-stand it," she sniffled, shaking her head, "couldn't stand it if either of you were upset, but I-I feel like I have no control over that! No-no matter what I do, somebody might get—get hurt!"

She finally broke down completely, falling forward and burying her face in my chest.

"I'm so confused," she gasped, her hand clutching my shirt. "I-I can't stand feeling like I don't have control. Over myself, over how—how I impact everyone else… I just—I-I just—"

She was crying now, her tears seeping into my shirt. After I got over my initial shock at her outburst and sudden proximity, I wrapped one arm around her, my other hand stroking the length of her hair. She shuddered with hushed sobs, pulling her legs onto the couch and curling into me.

"You absolutely have control," I whispered into her hair, tightening my embrace as she snuggled even closer. "And you don't know what's going on with Phineas. Who knows what's going through his head? You just need to focus on what you want."

She was silent, shaking against me, and I just held her.

This whole thing was rather unexpected. At first I thought she was massively blowing this out of proportion, making a mountain out of a molehill, but the more I thought about it, the more it made sense.

Isabella was a nut when it came to control. Yes, some argued it bordered on _control freak_, but I always that the title was a little too unkind. Troop Leader, Student Body President, head of so many clubs—she was always in charge. No one ever questioned her leadership, because she was good at it.

On top of that, she had the biggest heart of anyone I'd ever known, rivaled only by my little brother. Other than her dad leaving when she was three, she never had to handle much conflict in life. She was always so optimistic, so willing to see the world as a perfect fairytale. She often took it upon herself to shoulder other people's problems and make them right.

The idea of Phineas being upset through some fault of her own… I guess I could understand why that would break her. The last thing she would ever want was to hurt people, especially Phineas or I. Her fear of him discovering her feelings had to be intense. If Phineas started reciprocating, _now_, of all times… that was a terribly difficult situation in which to be.

I realized I never stopped reassuring her, spending the past… who knows how long, murmuring comforting little nothings into the quiet space. I fell silent, glad she couldn't see my cheeks heating up. My insides felt like Danville's new Butterfly Pavilion.

I shifted sideways, stretching my legs out on the couch like she had. She started pulling back, but I refused to let go of her. I drew her with me, and she conceded, wrapping her arms around my waist and burying her face in my chest to stifle her cries.

Sometimes we all needed someone who wouldn't let us pull away.

Nothing further was said, but that didn't bother me. I curled the ends of her ebony tresses around my fingers and felt the rise and fall of her lungs under my other palm. I held her until her sobs turned to whimpers, her whimpers to sniffles, and her sniffles to deep sighs—and I realized something.

I was in love with this girl.

* * *

><p><em>RR please!_

_Haha well… Linda knows XD_

_Poor Izzy. Her stress and confusion finally got to her, and she cracked a little bit… but Ferb is the biggest sweetie pie in the whole world._

_Next chapter is a first for this story! The entire chapter is in Phineas' POV, and it's called… (*drum roll*) _"Breakthrough."

Phineas. Breakthrough.

Do with that what you will ;)

Lilly-Belle is out, peace!


	25. Breakthrough

_Okay… this A/N will be a little longer, so bear with me :)_

_I got a few PMs from people asking about Isabella's dad, but I don't know if I'll touch on it more in the story, so I'll give you my brief shpeal here… I viewed Isabella's father as just this absentee man. He's never in the show (we only see Vivian), and Pavenmire and Marsh are big proponents of the idea that non-traditional families can still be great. Thus, I thought it would make sense for him to have walked out of their lives. However, because Isabella was so young, and has such a massive extended family, I don't have it as something that really bothers her. The main point was the notion that Isabella, as I've written her character, was limited in her exposure to strife, and thus viewed things with a fairytale-like optimism. Hence why she freaked out and mentally crashed when something went against that._

_Also, PLEASE REVIEW! The response to my last two chapters was surprisingly low. To those that took the time (even if it's just a few words) you made my day. I enjoyed some of the personal stories some of you guys left! I like that sort of thing :) I see how many people are viewing; pretty please be reviewing too._

_Lastly, once again people have asked me to contact them, but do not have a message box thing set up on Fanfic. Thus, I HAVE NO WAY TO GET AHOLD OF YOU, little lovelies. I will gladly talk to anyone, answer questions, whatever you want, but you if you want me to contact you, set up PM with your account, or give me your email in a review or something!_

_Sorry that was so long… onward!_

**IMPORTANT: **_I tried to make it obvious, but in case it wasn't… Phineas and Buford/Baljeet are going to be running on two completely different tracks here; one thinks one thing, the other thinks another. Keep that in mind._

_Disclaimer: I do not own Phineas and Ferb._

* * *

><p>CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE:<p>

Breakthrough

**PHINEAS**

"What do you mean she left?" I couldn't believe what Buford and Baljeet said, but the proof was right in front of my eyes… or not in front of my eyes, I suppose. Isabella was gone.

"She said her mom needed her for something," Buford repeated, finishing the last bit of Isabella's sundae.

I couldn't shake the feeling that was wrong.

"Are you sure that's the reason?" I asked, looking to Baljeet, since he always had the answers.

"That's what she said."

I rested my cheek on my fist. _No, something else was going on._ That much I knew. Between the all the weirdness from these two, Isabella's complete silence after I started asking questions, and now her absence, that much was obvious.

The question, then, was _what_? What was the source of her agitation? I just couldn't make sense of it.

Then I remembered the night of Jeremy and Candace's engagement, when I was giving an explanation of the rose's infrared sensors, and Isabella summed up the whole evening in one succinct sentence. In that moment, I had thought that there was something to be said for simplicity.

So maybe the solution was simple, and I just couldn't see it. I tried to pull back my analytical scope, looking at things from a bigger picture.

Isabella had seemed agitated and antsy as of late. It was kind of odd, because I'd acted that way a few times too. Maybe the source of her anxiety was similar to mine. Come to think of it, Ferb had been acting a little differently lately, too.

And there it was.

Because when nothing made sense, even the impossible became probable. There was the common denominator. There was the answer.

I couldn't believe Candace had been right.

"I don't think Isabella's mom needed her," I stated. " I think she lied."

The blunt force of my words hit my two friends hard.

"What?" each stammered.

"I think I made her uncomfortable today. I pressed her because there was something she wasn't telling me, and she panicked and left." Baljeet and Buford made awkward eye contact, and I knew I was on the right path. "You guys know that's true, don't you?"

They both developed jumpy gazes, looking at everything but me. That was all the answer I needed.

"You're not exactly subtle." I crossed my arms.

"Look, all I will say is that it did seem suspicious. Beyond that, I would like to claim, 'no comment,'" Baljeet said, eating the last bite of his waffle cone.

"What the nerd said," Buford mumbled.

"Your help is overwhelming," I said sarcastically. "But it's okay. I figured it out."

Buford actually laughed now. "I doubt it."

"No, I'm serious." I gulped, mentally preparing myself to speak my next words. "I made Isabella uncomfortable today because of her crush."

Buford and Baljeet stared at me, slack-jawed. There were no words to describe the pure amount of surprise and terror on every aspect of their features. Had they really not known about Isabella's crush on Ferb? I would have sworn they knew, and were keeping it secret from me.

"How—how—how—?" Baljeet droned like a broken record.

"Candace told me last week," I said simply, thinking back to our conversation in the kitchen and those two texts. "I wouldn't have realized it otherwise. Although, now that I think about it, there were plenty of hints. Little signs that should have clued me in on her feelings. I guess it just didn't sink in until now."

They continued to stare.

"Oh, don't tell me you guys didn't notice," I exclaimed. "You had to have noticed."

Baljeet shook his head, looking down at his hands. "Of course we noticed, Phineas. Everyone has noticed."

"Except for you," Buford tacked on.

"Except for me? _Everyone?_" That threw me for a loop. "How long has this been going on, exactly?"

"Look, this is something you will have to talk to Isabella about to get all of your answers. I think we've meddled enough for a day." Baljeet sat back, as if to dismiss himself from the conversation.

"Speak for yourself, dweeb," Buford cackled, shifting in his chair to better face me. "The cat's out of the bag now, and I've been dying to talk about this for years."

"_Years?_" I know I was possibly the worst person in the world with romance, but how could I not have noticed my best friend pining over my brother for _years_? "What do you mean years? How long—"

"Just what I said," Buford huffed. "But how long ain't what matters." He put his hand on my shoulder.

"What matters, then?"

"The fact that if I don't pass on some of my wisdom, you're gonna screw this up. Rule number one: wrap it before you tap it. Rule number—"

"_Tap _it?" _Oh man, _I felt my face flush redder than ever before. Where the heck did that even come from?

"_Buford_!" Baljeet shrieked, his voice unnaturally high. "Do not tell him _that!"_ He turned to me. "Just ignore every single word that comes out of Buford's mouth, and you will be fine."

"Hey, my advice was good!"

"But irrelevant!" Baljeet squealed back. "It is horrible advice to give Phineas!"

"Like you could do any better, Mr. I've-liked-Ginger-and-never-done-a-damn-thing-about-it! You're barely better than he is."

"Hey!"

"Your prudishness reeks even from here."

"Buford!"

By now I was watching the two of them like a loud, bicker-filled tennis match. After so many years, I'd learned not to get involved when the two of them started going at it. I zoned out for a minute, until Baljeet's hand slamming down on the table jarred me back.

"Do not bring my mother into this! Besides, this is not about me! This is about Phineas. We do not even know how he feels about it yet!"

"Fair enough." Buford turned his attention back to me. "What're you thinking, Pointy?"

"What?" I lifted my head off my hand.

"Well," Baljeet cooled down, his voice normal again. "It is a valid question. How do you feel about… you know…"

"Isabella's crush," Buford finished.

"I didn't know my opinion should matter."

"Jeese," Buford scoffed. "Does she have you that whipped already?"

"Whipped? What are you—"

"Ignore him," Baljeet demanded, shooting the bully a fierce glare. "Of course it matters how you feel."

_How _did_ I feel about Isabella and Ferb?_

"Well, to be honest," I sighed, "I'd be lying if I said it didn't make me uncomfortable. I mean, I really didn't see it coming."

They were both silent, their faces demanding elaboration. I complied.

"Izzy was always part of the gang. A very, very important part. I guess it never occurred to me… I never realized romantic feelings could develop there."

They shook their heads like they understood. Their calmness about the whole thing was surprising.

"Does it not weird you guys out?"

"Not really," they both admitted. Then Baljeet explained, "I suppose we have had a lot of time to get used to the idea. We just want to be supportive."

"And mock," Buford added.

"No mocking, just support!" Baljeet shot back, but I didn't want to listen to them get into it again. I snapped my fingers between the two.

"Focus?" I demanded with a laugh.

"Right," Baljeet agreed, shaking his head at Buford's antics. "Phineas, I guess the crux of the situation lies with one question; what are you going to do about it?"

"What am I—?"

That question brought me up short. What would I do if Ferb and Isabella were together? What would _I_ do? That didn't even seem relevant; I couldn't control Isabella or with whom she fell in love.

_Whoa, too weird. _Strike that from the record. It was a crush. My brother and best friend were not in love.

"I guess… I'll just have to try to be as supportive as possible. I mean, what choice do I have? It's that, or be a bad brother, a bad friend. I don't want that."

My two friend's faces jerked toward each other, both suddenly looking very, very confused. They had some silent conversation full of raised eyebrows and shrugging. In unison, they turned back to me.

"Phineas," Buford began, "what _the hell_ are you talking about?"

"Bad brother? What does Ferb have to do with this?" Baljeet continued.

_Wait, what?_

"What do you mean what does Ferb—?" I faltered, completely confused now, too. "What are _you_ guys talking about?"

"Isabella's crush," Baljeet stated hesitantly.

"Yeah," I agreed. "Isabella's crush on Ferb."

Baljeet's face pinched in shock, and Buford looked like I'd just punched his mother.

"Wait, you think… you think Isabella likes _Ferb_?"

"Of course. Who—"

"And _Candace_ told you this?"

"Well, yes, but—"

"But _why_? Why would Candace tell you that?"

"Because it's true!" I blew out. I was tired of this confusion. "When you look at how they've been interacting lately, I think it makes sense. I didn't believe Candace at first, not for a while, but Isabella kept asking questions about Ferb, and bringing him up in conversation, and it just sort of… clicked. Isabella must like Ferb, because there's no other explanation for all of this… this _crazy_ going on!"

"Phineas," Baljeet sighed, "Isabella does not like Ferb."

"But—"

"The nerd's right," Buford agreed. "I never thought I'd have to say these words to you, but Isabella ain't in love with your brother."

His harsh tone caught me off guard, like he was frustrated by my idea. It wasn't that farfetched was it?

"What makes you so sure? Have you not noticed their strange behavior? I mean, the compliments, those weird glances he gives her," I scoffed, just now realizing how different my brother had been, "the fact that he'd been talking more when she lived with us, quieter when she was gone, the fact that she fell asleep on him? Have you noticed none of it?"

"Dude, of course we've noticed. We're not stupid."

Baljeet waved off Buford, as if to say, _let me handle this._ "Phineas, I think I speak for both of us," he nodded his head at the bully, "when I stipulate that all of those behaviors do not mean she likes him, or vice versa."

"Well what sense can you make of all of this, then? Why else would they been have acting that way toward each other?" I sighed, beyond frustrated. I felt like we were running in circles, dancing around answers that should have been there, but were missing a piece. "If you have a theory that can give this any semblance of logic, then please, share."

My two friends looked back at each other, their stares betraying a debate on just what to tell me, how much to reveal.

"Please," I sighed. "I have to know."

"Phineas," Baljeet exhaled in defeat, staring down at his hands. "We do have one theory."

"Okay," I hummed, leaning forward.

"Did… did…" He moved his hands into a contemplative steeple, rubbed one over his face, then went back to the steeple. He hesitated again, his hands returning to their flat position. His fingers began drumming on the table. This didn't bode well.

"Just tell me," I pleaded, and he sighed.

"Phineas… did it ever occur to you that maybe Ferb was helping Isabella… make another boy _jealous_?"

Earlier today, I thought the revelation that Candace was right about Isabella and Ferb was earthshattering.

I was wrong.

_This_—what Baljeet just said—_this _was what it was like to have the ground pulled out from under your feet. The whole world seemed to tilt sideways, losing more and more of its gravity the longer their words were inside of my brain.

_Isabella was trying to make another boy jealous?_ That thought wrenched my insides in ways I hadn't expected, my stomach tightening from the inside out and my throat going much, much too dry.

But that wasn't even all. No, Ferb had been _helping_ her make another boy jealous.

"Phineas," Baljeet said softly, "what are you thinking?"

_What was I thinking?_ What a funny question. I replied honestly.

"I don't know. I… I really don't."

They remained silent, letting this new revelation steep in my brain, giving me time to fully process. And it worked. Two minutes under the scrutiny of their gazes, and I was finally able to put my finger on this growing feeling.

Indignation.

My head fell into my hands, a thousand thoughts rushing in at once, and I realized I couldn't be here right now. I needed to be alone, needed to figure this out. I needed some fresh air.

"Guys, I'll see you at Adyson's party tonight, but until then, I have to go."

I stood up, but they did too. When he spoke, Baljeet's voice was saturated with concern.

"Phineas, you shouldn't—"

"Thanks for talking to me. I really, really appreciate it." I threw my dirty napkin into the nearest trashcan. "And I promise I'm perfectly fine; I just need some time to think. I'll see you later, okay?"

Both boys nodded, and I walked out the door.

I forbade myself from thinking about anything but physics equations until my feet found where they were going. I had made my way to Danville Park—to the old swing set at the playground. I sat down.

Finally, hesitantly, I let my thoughts shift back to the topic on which they really wanted to dwell.

_What is Isabella getting herself into? _I thought despairingly. And why did it upset me so much? I couldn't stand the thought of Isabella devising some plan with my brother to make another boy jealous.

The idea that Isabella was pining over some boy… I almost… I almost wanted to punch something.

Ferb and Isabella. It made me uncomfortable. It made me unexpectedly uncomfortable. But I could live with it. I at least knew with 100% certainty that Ferb would be a gentleman to her, and never want to break her heart.

Isabella liking another boy so much that Ferb would help her make him jealous… my mind screamed that no other boy deserved her. No other boy would understand her. No other boy would treat my Isabella the way she needed to be treated.

I froze.

Wait.

Oh my.

What the heck had I just thought?

* * *

><p><em>RR please! Yes, read & REVIEW would be absolutely lovely :)_

_Well… there you have it! Hope you liked it! This chapter is important because it sets up a few things that drive the plot._

_Something to note: the theory that Ferb is helping Isabella make Phineas jealous. This is what Buford/Baljeet think has been going on, and now that idea is in Phineas' head too. Phineas doesn't quite realized who the "boy" is, hence why he's so upset at the end. But boy, oh boy, is that coming. I'm almost finished with Chapter 31, and I've had fun with that theory up to that point ^.^_

_Anyhoo, in summary, take note: they think Ferbella is a ploy to catalyze Phinabella. And although not the intent of the elder brother… will it work? (Dun dun duuuuuun)_

_Tune in next time to see! Same bat time, same bat channel!_

_Lilly-Belle is out, peace!_


	26. Laughter

_SURPRISE!_ A new chapter super soon! I was just so far ahead, I though I'd treat you guys to twenty-six.

It's a little shorter, and more of a transitional section, but it has its sweet moments. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Phineas and Ferb.

* * *

><p>CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX:<p>

Laughter

**ISABELLA**

The first thing that reached me was the warmth, pressed against my cheek and resting under my fingertips. Next was the sound of a heartbeat, and the smell of laundered cotton. I opened my eyes.

"Hey," Ferb whispered, and I propped myself up on my elbow.

My mind was murky, but it didn't take much cognizance to fit together the basic pieces. I was on the Flynn-Fletcher's couch. More specifically, I was on it with Ferb. Both of us were stretched out down its length. And I had been pretty much lying on top of him.

"Did I fall asleep?"

The green-haired boy wasn't looking at me. Instead, he stared across the room at nothing in particular, his hand closed and pressed to his mouth contemplatively. He looked pensive to the point of brooding, but the overall effect was ruined by the pink in his cheeks.

He nodded.

"You okay?"

His eyes lit with surprise, like the question was preposterous. "Hm?"

"Are you okay?" I repeated.

"Oh yes," he chuckled, blue meeting blue when he finally returned my gaze. "Most definitely."

"And what does that mean?"

In answer, he smirked but shook his head. "Nothing, love. How was your nap?"

I sighed and lied back down, listening to his heartbeat under my cheek. "What's with this calling me 'love' business, huh? That's new."

"What?"

"You keep calling me 'love' today."

"Do I?" His voice was inquisitive, curious.

"Yeah," I yawned. "That makes three or four times now."

He laughed under his breath. "Honestly, I hadn't even noticed."

Then the events of earlier today finally settled back in my brain, and I started. I shot up so fast I fell off the couch, landing hard on my butt.

"Isabella?" Ferb spluttered, half concerned and half trying to hold back a laugh.

"How long was I asleep?" I gasped.

Ferb shrugged. "An hour, hour and a half. Not too long."

I quickly stood up, sure my cheeks were burning. I was asleep for that long, and he did nothing but hold me? That was… that was so unbelievably sweet I didn't know what to do with it. But any warm feelings were quickly extinguished by the embarrassing memory of my mental breakdown earlier.

"Ferb, I'm so sorry you had to see me like that," I quickly murmured, and he looked puzzled.

"Love, you don't—" he stopped, as if realizing he'd used that nickname again. A peculiar smile crept onto his face for just a second, but he shook his head. "You have nothing to apologize for."

"Yes I do."

"No, you don't." He stood up, taking my hands. "We all need a good cry every now and then. What matters is how you're feeling now."

Why was he so perfect? It shouldn't be possible.

"Embarrassed," I laughed. "That's how I'm feeling now." He shook his head amusedly, but I figured he wanted a more serious answer. I did an internal inventory, and was shocked to find that I felt fine. Lighter, even. "I'm alright."

His amused look grew into skepticism, and I snorted.

"Honestly, I'm fine. More than fine. I feel like… I don't know. I feel like I've let go of a lot of anxiety I've been carrying for a while. I feel back to normal."

"You promise you're not just telling me what I want to hear?" His eyes gleamed suspiciously, and I gave him the most thankful smile I could muster.

"Pinkie promise," I replied. He chuckled, looking down at our interlocked hands.

"I'll take your word for it; I don't want to let you go."

I felt my cheeks flush with color. God, he was too good at those charming little comments. Too good for my own good. I couldn't even call it cliché, because the sincerity in his voice made it so sweet.

Sweet…

Sweets.

Ice cream.

"Phineas!" I yelped, pulling my hands from his. "I have to go!"

I noticed my purse lying on the floor, and quickly snatched it up. How could I forget? Phineas could be here any minute! It was pure luck he hadn't come home while I was asleep. That would have been disastrous! If he came home now…

Then I saw Ferb's face, and froze. The look in his eyes nearly broke me again. It was only there for a second, exposing something so hurt, so betrayed, before they became completely void of emotion.

I realized how he must have taken my outburst.

"Oh, oh no, baby, it's fine. I just—I meant I can't be here when he gets home," I quickly explained. "I lied earlier and said I was helping my mom, which was why I left. I have to be gone before he gets home. I don't want to have to explain things to him, you know?"

He visibly thawed, the tension leaving his shoulders. Ferb was always so calm, so collected. Seeing that brief glimmer of turmoil, pain and insecurity was heartbreaking. Although, now he was looking at me with an expression of cheery puzzlement.

"What?" I asked cautiously.

"Oh, nothing," he breathed, that odd little smile growing wider. "I just… I guess I'm not used to nicknames either."

"Nickname? Wait, what did I call you?" I tried to think back to my explanation, but couldn't recall. _Panic!_ What had I just said? What slipped out of my mouth?

"Never mind," Ferb shook his head, laughing under his breath. "Doesn't matter. But you're right, you should go before he returns."

We headed for the door. I'd just taken the handle, when another thought stopped be short.

"Wait, your mom was here when I got here. What if she mentions to Phineas that I stopped by? Should we say I was returning a book, or something?"

Ferb's hand flew to the back of his neck awkwardly, red leaking into his cheeks. "Uh…"

_Uh oh._

"What are you not telling me?"

"My, um… my mum… uh…"

Ferb was stuttering. The ever quiet and always eloquent Ferb… was stuttering.

"Oh no," I gasped. "No, please—_please_ tell me she didn't come downstairs while I was sleeping!"

Ferb blew out a puff of air, staring up at the ceiling. He looked mortified. _Oh no no no no no no._

"_Ferb!_" I hissed, my voice dropping down to a whisper, as if the walls had suddenly sprouted ears and hands to pry away my secrets. "If you don't start talking _right now,_ I swear, I'm going to—"

"Well, she—she may have… figured a few things out… before you even got here…" he mumbled under his breath.

"WHAT?"

"…and—and came downstairs while you were asleep…"

I ran my hand over my face. Linda figured out a few things before? What did that even mean? Then to find she came downstairs to the sight of me cuddled up with and asleep on her son—though not the son she would have ever expected me to be sleeping on.

"But that's not what matters now," he said quickly, shoving me towards the door. "What matters is getting you out of here before Phineas gets home."

He already had me out the door—no doubt willing to do anything to limit my exposure to his embarrassed side—but I turned around.

"You don't think she'd tell Phineas, do you?"

He pressed his lips together, but shook his head.

"What makes you so sure?"

He sighed. "First of all, she probably thinks it's something we should tell him, not her. And, well… I think she also knows that we haven't even figured out what that 'something' is to talk about in the first place." With that, he started closing the door, but I stuck my foot out to stop it.

"There's an implied, 'second of all,' in there, Fletcher," I said stubbornly. "Let's hear it."

He rocked back and forth on his feet, his gaze jumping from one place to another—anywhere except my face. Wow. The ever-composed Ferb was rarely uncomfortable. This… was absolutely wonderful to witness.

I was so amused right now.

"Ferb?" I demanded, and he let out another puff of air.

"Secondly, well… she's being oddly… supportive."

"_Supportive? _What did she say? When she saw us, I mean?"

He grew even redder. "Nothing. She… she didn't say anything." I crossed my arms and tapped my foot impatiently. He got my message: continue or die. "She just sort of… smiled… and… and gave me a thumbs up..."

That was it? _That_ was what had Ferb so flustered? A suggestive thumbs up?

"That… is so _adorable_!" I burst out laughing, clutching my sides. Yes, it wasn't exactly nice to poke fun at his embarrassment, but it was so rare I had to jump on the opportunity when I had it. "_You_ are so adorable."

He glared at me, but there was a playfulness in his voice. "You are being terribly uncouth right now."

In the midst of my giggling, I gave him a thumbs up.

He sighed dramatically, rolling his eyes with both exasperation and mirth. "Goodbye, Isabella."

I still hadn't stopped laughing, but I called back, "hey, see you tonight!" before the door closed.

* * *

><p><strong>FERB<strong>

My little brother showed up half an hour after Isabella left. It was evident early on that something was bothering him, but true to form, he was happy within minutes, declaring he "had a hankering for some inventing."

His optimism never failed to amaze me.

We spent the rest of the afternoon drawing up blueprints for a mega sandcastle Phineas wanted to build some time in the next few days, complete with working elevators and a hot tub. It was a lot of fun to do something just the two of us, like we were both little kids again.

Mum insisted we eat dinner with her before the party, lamenting loudly and dramatically about how we only had "so many college-free days left with our poor mother." Neither of us complained. Mum's homemade lasagna or a couple slices of cheese-covered cardboard at Adyson's house? There was no contest.

Mum invited Isabella to join us, since she was going with Phineas and I to the party. She was nonchalant about it, revealing nothing in her voice or actions, but I was still a little on edge. She hadn't mentioned Isabella's stopping by earlier, but there were other issues at hand. How was I supposed to act around her now? Around Isabella when she was over? How would this recent revelation change things?

These were the burning questions.

Thankfully—or unthankfully, depending on how you looked at it—Isabella declined. She said that she and her mum were planning on making homemade tamales and spending some quality time together.

Both our mum and Vivian were tickled pink about the party, proclaiming that the three of us kids didn't do enough "normal" teenage activity. They encouraged loudly and unyieldingly for us to go, have a good time, and not worry about when we were home.

It made me want to laugh. Wasn't it supposed to be the other way around? The kids wanted to stay out later and break the rules, while the parents protested. But for us? Nope. It was the opposite. _The parental problems of good kids_, I thought amusedly.

It was nearly seven o'clock—already an hour into Adyson's party—by the time Phineas and I made our way over to Isabella's house to pick her up, but I didn't think any of us minded.

Adyson's house was still in our neighborhood, and we could have walked there without too much hassle, but I insisted on driving. I didn't know how long we were going to be there, and if it reached the a.m. hours, I didn't want to be stuck walking home.

Phineas rang Isabella's doorbell, and she was quick to answer. She was wearing the same outfit as earlier—my favorite red shirt with a white skirt—but it looked like she had showered since I'd last seen her. The tips of her hair were still damp.

"Ready to go?" Phineas asked.

She smiled at both of us, genuine and bright, like her breakdown earlier never happened. "Definitely. I'm ready to have some fun!"

Much to my relief and surprise, the drive over was free from awkwardness. Phineas let loose with some witty anecdotes, and Isabella shared a funny story about a string of mishaps that had happened while she and her mum made dinner.

"Really? _In you hair_?" Phineas laughed, and Isabella giggled out a confirmation. Who knew tamales could be so hard to make? I guess that explained the shower.

We were there quickly, and all three of us were in high spirits. We jostled around with each other on our way to the door, laughing at inside jokes and just enjoying the wholesomeness of being a trio_._

The moment was delightfully heavy—one of those times when you stopped and hoped your memory had the whole thing recorded. I couldn't help but feel quite pensive_. This_ was what it was all about. _This_ was what it came down to: how much I loved these two.

Such sentimentality was cut short, however, when Isabella rang the doorbell. Adyson answered with a huge smile, practically dragging us inside and down to the basement. She was talking a million miles a minute, about how sad we should be that we missed what we'd missed, and how there'd already been so many hilarious moments. One part of her babble in particular caught Phineas and Isabella's interest.

"Wait, what do you mean your parents are out of town?" Isabella gasped. "You didn't exactly mention that in your invite!"

"Chill, Iz," Adyson laughed. "It's no biggie. Just our friends, no drugs, no alcohol. I kept it relatively tame."

Adyson's basement was a large room, complete with a few couches, a table, a fireplace, horrid light green walls, and a guest bedroom just to the side. Pretty much the entirety of our close friend group—Buford, Baljeet, Ginger, Gretchen, Holly, Katie, Milly, Django, and Irving—were sitting on the floor and along the couches in a circle. Most were holding sodas, a few of them with slices of pizza.

I put a reassuring hand on Isabella's shoulder; _this will be fine._

"Embrace a little rebellion in your life," Adyson crooned, hopping over to a table she'd set up. She grabbed a soda out of an ice chest and tossed it to my brother. "Have some fun! You can just jump in with us."

"Jump into what?" Phineas directed his question at the whole group, but Adyson was the one to answer.

"A positively tantalizing game of Truth or Dare."

* * *

><p><em>RR please!_

_Yes, I know not much happened, per se, but I also thought a lighter chapter was fitting. Things have been intense lately, but this is Phineas and Ferb we're talking about. Some laughter and high spirits were overdue._

_The drama and hilarity returns in the next chapter, "Comfort Zones," when our trio plays some Truth or Dare. It's another first for me; I have three POVs present!_

_Thank you to those who take that second to review. You rock!_

_Love, Lilly-Belle_


	27. Scandalous

_Ah yes, the sarcastic reviews about Truth or Dare… yes, I often roll my eyes at it too, but it fit._

_Oddly enough, I wrote this chapter after I wrote Chapter Four, and just now wrote all the way up to it… you know, 24 chapters later XD Pretty funny. Enjoy!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Phineas and Ferb._

* * *

><p>CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT:<p>

Scandalous

**FERB**

"Time to go over the rules for the newbies," Adyson sang, grabbing Isabella's wrist and tugging her further into the room.

"Rules?" my girl laughed. "Adyson, it's Truth or Dare. I'm pretty sure we're good to go."

"Oh no," our hostess proclaimed. "This isn't your typical middle school Truth or Dare. No, this is pre-senior year Truth or Dare! This shit is real!"

She practically shoved Isabella onto the floor before returning to her spot next to Buford. I was about to sit down next to her, but Phineas beat me to the punch. Grumbling internally, I sat down next to my brother.

Then I mentally slapped myself for my griping; I was becoming too invested in Isabella. It was ridiculous.

"In this game, there's the Coward's Clause," Adyson continued. "If you back down from a dare, you have the penalty of three truths, and vice versa."

"That's crazy," Phineas interjected, clearly out of his comfort zone. My poor brother had never been at home with normal teenage activities such as this. He'd rather drink in a physics book than have a drink, rather make plans for a crazy machine than make out at a crazy party.

"Oh, and you can't pick one option more than twice in a row," Buford tacked on with a maniacal glint in his eye.

This was spelling disaster. Adyson was a well-meaning party girl with a dirty sense of fun. Buford loved any and everything that made people uncomfortable—especially sexually—and constantly bombarded us with suggestive jokes. Put the two of them together at a party… this would be an interesting night.

"Ferb!" Adyson declared, and my eyes met her wicked grin. "Truth or dare?"

What confused me was why she would pick me first; I was easily the most boring choice in the circle. Well, as far as everyone else knew. My life had been scandalous as of late, but that wasn't common knowledge.

"Wait," Katie cut in, "before they got here you'd just asked Baljeet."

"Oh, I was hoping you'd forget that," Baljeet mumbled, wringing his hands together.

"Right," Buford cackled, "don't let the nerdling off the hook. Truth or dare, dweeb?"

The Indian sighed. "Well, I would like tru—"

Buford interrupted with a loud noise like a buzzer. "Sike! You don't actually have a choice. You've picked truth twice in a row." His smile turned downright evil. "Time for you to do a dare."

Baljeet gulped, his copper skin draining of color.

"I got this," Adyson claimed, leaning forward. She contemplated for five seconds, the serious gleam in her eyes downright intimidating. "Baljeet… I dare you to kiss one girl here for at least ten seconds."

Okay… so it was _that_ kind of game of Truth or Dare. I immediately grew worried for my little brother; he didn't know how to handle these types of things.

"Um… can I just take the three truths instead?" Baljeet faltered.

"You can," Buford replied, tilting an eyebrow, "but I can promise you every fiber of my being will go into making sure the questions make your life a living hell."

It was then that my young, relationship-challenged brother surprised me.

"It's okay, 'Jeet," he laughed. "We all know who you'd pick anyway."

"What?" Baljeet yelped, both he and a certain Japanese girl in the circle turning the color of cotton candy.

"It's pretty obvious." The redhead rested his chin on his closed fist, propping himself up on his leg in a casual manner. "Actually, very obvious. To everybody. So you should just go for it."

This… from Phineas_._ Romantic encouragement and statements about what was obvious… from _Phineas. _

_Phineas!_

And yet… somehow, it worked.

Baljeet nodded at my brother, gulped, took two deep breaths, and stood up. With three strides, he crossed over to the absolutely stunned Ginger and dropped down in front of her.

"Ten seconds?" he asked Adyson, still not meeting the eyes of the girl he'd picked. Adyson nodded. No one said a word. Finally, Baljeet looked at Ginger. "You—um, you don't mind, right? I-I mean, I know it's a dare, so if you don't want me to, I don't—I mean… I-I can just—"

Ginger leaned forward and kissed him.

The gesture on her part was very sweet… the kiss in general was unbelievably awkward—not in their actions themselves, per se, but just that we all had to watch.

Surprisingly, Baljeet managed to be pretty suave. After three seconds of initial startled lip contact, he slipped his hand to the back of her neck, his thumb brushing along her cheek. They both leaned into it a little more.

I mean… good for them. Heaven knows the two of them had waited long enough… but it was still _so_ awkward to have to sit here and observe.

My eyes drifted to Phineas, who was red and casually tracing a pattern on his shoe to avoid the PDA. My vision then drew up to the girl next to him. Just as she was doing the same. Isabella quickly looked back down at her lap almost shyly, her hair falling over her shoulder. _Damn, that was cute._

More than ten seconds had definitely passed and a few people cleared their throats. With a start, Baljeet pulled back. He was redder than I'd ever seen him before—really, he could put a tomato to shame—but he also looked massively pleased with himself. Ginger's face was still etched with shock, though there was a small smile slowly creeping across her lips.

It was about time.

"Um… Ferb, truth or dare?" Baljeet muttered, his voice small.

Seriously? What was with them choosing me? Apparently my surprise showed in my expression, because Baljeet quickly blurted out an explanation.

"Just because Adyson picked you before!"

I nodded in recognition, then shrugged as an answer.

"Oh, let's give him a truth!" Holly exclaimed, and everyone got excited. I rolled my eyes; how eager they got simply because I didn't talk much.

"Let's make it a _really_ tough one!" Buford demanded.

"Hey!" Baljeet snapped, "this is _my _turn to ask, and I'll ask what I want." Everyone else looked at him expectantly, and he rubbed the back of his neck. "Uh…"

We waited for ten seconds, but Baljeet was still struggling.

"Oh come on," Phineas laughed. "It's not that hard to come up with a question." Then, to prove his point, he turned to me. "Hey, Ferb, how many girls have you liked?"

I raised my eyebrow; was it really going to be that easy?

"No!" Adyson exclaimed like she'd read my thoughts. "That's too boring."

"Aha!" Baljeet jumped in, eager have his say. "I've got one that's a little better. How many girls have you ever fallen in love with?"

Well, that was a little more embarrassing to admit, but it was doable. Completely doable… but my usual answer of one—Vanessa—simply wouldn't work anymore.

_Isabella_, my mind hummed, and my stomach tied itself into excited knots.

I'd only realized the way I felt about her a short time ago, but the feelings had been there, buried deep and growing, for years. I would do absolutely anything for her, anything to make her happy.

Careful not to look at the girl from across the street, I held up two fingers.

"Two?" Phineas scoffed, giving me a smile that was equally astonished and sly. "You've been holding out on me!"

I shrugged: my only response. All they had asked for was a number.

My pick. I leaned forward, staring at Isabella. She seemed to sense it, and looked up. With a smirk, I tilted my head at her: _truth or dare?_

Her mouth fell open just slightly and her eyes gleamed with incredulity, like she couldn't believe I was doing this to her. At times like these, she usually called me a damn genius or a bloody Brit. I imagined those words running through her head, along with some other colorful language, but it was such a wonderful opportunity. I couldn't resist.

"…Dare," she said carefully, probably too afraid of what question I'd ask her.

"Ooo," Katie cooed, "Isabella's being risky!"

It was her turn to roll her eyes, with a mutter of, "I'm regretting this already."

I rubbed my chin theatrically, letting her see that I enjoyed having her fate in my hands. I had expected her to say truth, though, so in all honesty, I was drawing a blank. Ten seconds passed, and I still hadn't thought of anything.

Well, that wasn't completely true; there were many possibilities that popped into my head—the most tempting of which being _kiss me_—but none of them were appropriate options to announce to the group.

Adyson exploded in a fit of giggles. "Oh, _hell_ yes! I've got a good one! And by good one, I mean _bad _one!"

"Oh no," Isabella groaned, her head slumping into her hands. "No, let _Ferb_ pick the dare. You're crazy!"

"I dare you…" Ady paused for dramatic effect, ignoring Isabella's protests, "to give a strip tease to one boy of your choice."

"WHAT?!" Isabella, Phineas, and I all yelped at once.

"A strip tease or a lap dance. Your choice. Thirty seconds."

"No," Isabella blurted out. "Oh no. No. Hell no." She was shaking her head adamantly, her cheeks burning about five shades of pink. Adyson laughed.

"Aw, don't be such a prude!"

"I'm not taking off my clothes or dancing all up on someone," Isabella cried indignantly. "Not when everyone else can see me."

"Coward Clause!" Django hooted. The room erupted in excited shouts; apparently this was the first Coward Clause occurrence of the evening. Isabella would now have to answer three questions.

I could live with that, but only if I didn't let everyone else run away with it. My friends were quick on the draw, though.

"What's the most embarrassing thing you've ever experienced?" Milly asked.

Isabella laughed. "You mean other than when Adyson just gave me that dare?" Everyone else chuckled good-naturedly. "I'm going to go with that."

"Hey, that's not a good enough answer," Adyson whined. "I don't think that should count!"

"I have to answer three of these things," Isabella replied with a wonderful amount of snark. "That's all you're getting."

"How old were you when you had your first kiss?" Django asked, and all of the Fireside Girls groaned.

"Don't ask her that," Katie exclaimed, smacking the back of Django's head.

"It's a wasted question," Holly agreed. "We all know she hasn't—"

"Seventeen," Isabella replied coolly, and a hush fell over the room. Everyone stared at her.

One second, two seconds. I was able to count all the way to five before all the girls exploded with wild exclamations and questions, such as, _WHAT! _and, _you didn't tell us? _The only one who wasn't going crazy with their most recent revelation was Ginger, who, for just a second, smiled at me.

I quickly looked away.

I focused on wrapping my head around Isabella's answer. _Seventeen. _I knew she'd never dated anyone, so it should have been obvious, but I guess I never fully comprehended the fact that I had been her first kiss. My lips were the first hers had ever touched. I smiled.

"What the hell do you mean _seventeen_?" Adyson yelled above the rest, and everyone simmered down. "You mean you kissed someone and didn't tell the Troop? _Who?_"

Whether on purpose, or just out of habit, nearly every gaze in the room shifted to Phineas.

Phineas! My eyes shot to my brother too. He stared at the floor, his eyebrows pressed down in confusion, like he hadn't quite registered all that had just happened. He looked back up at Isabella, staring at her hard. He seemed so stunned, like he'd never imagined Isabella was capable of the verb _kiss_.

I didn't like it.

Then I realized that Adyson had meant her question of _who_ to be the last of Isabella's three. I didn't want that. I was the one who had asked her truth or dare, and I was going to have a contribution.

I flagged everyone down, and for the most part they grew quiet. I nudged Phineas and made a few gestures.

"Ferb's making claim on the last question, since he was the one that asked Isabella in the first place," the redhead translated effortlessly. I loved my brother; he always understood me. Most of them looked surprised that I'd even bothered interrupting, but I realized there was already a question asked to which I wanted an answer.

Isabella looked over at me quizzically, and I could easily read the thought etched into her cerulean irises; _what'cha doing, Fletcher?_ On top of that, there was a silent threat laced across her lips and down her shoulders. I chose to ignore it.

I nodded my head at Baljeet, tilted it back as if at myself, then looked at her expectantly. Both Phineas and Isabella's faces lilted to the side in puzzlement, both understanding exactly what I was asking, but not why I was asking it.

"Ferb is going with the same question Baljeet asked him," Phineas voiced for me. Then he looked back as Isabella. "So how many boys have you ever fallen in love with?"

"What another waste!" Buford bellowed, but Adyson elbowed him.

Of course, they all expected her to easily reply one, and move on. Well, except for Phineas, who had no expectations. And maybe Ginger, who apparently had some insider information. And me. Of course there was me. I had absolutely no clue what to expect.

For one crazy moment, I was stuck in this mental in-between, at the crossings of panic and calm, of regret for asking this question and a burning need to know the answer_._ It was terrifying.

Isabella mirrored this. Bewilderment, disbelief, trepidation—it was all on her face, shimmering in her eyes. It was subtle, probably only noticeable to me, since I actually knew there would be a reason for her to have these feelings.

Her gaze was everywhere. She stared at me, glanced around the circle, gulped. She looked to Ginger, who offered a reassuring smile, back to me, Phineas, then down at her lap.

She licked her lips. They parted in the process of forming a word, and I wasn't sure if my heart was beating. I wasn't breathing.

"Two."

* * *

><p><strong>ISABELLA<strong>

Oh.

God.

No.

Crap.

No.

That didn't just happen. I didn't just say that. That single word did not just waltz out of my mouth and into this room. It did not.

Because if it did, if those three letters really just slid off my tongue, then that would mean that I'd just admitted to this entire room—basically to my entire social life—that I was smitten with somebody other than Phineas Flynn.

No. It would mean that I had just told everybody that I thought I'd actually _fallen for_ somebody other than Phineas Flynn.

Which I hadn't even touched, contemplated, analyzed, realized, accepted… I loved Ferb. I loved Phineas. I loved Ginger, my mom, Baljeet, Buford (most days), the rest of my troop…

But there was a difference between loving, and being _in_ love. A very distinct difference. One that didn't apply to Ferb because I wasn't in love with him. I loved Ferb, and was in love with Phineas.

But in this panicked moment, I didn't have the time or luxury to listen to all of the uncertainties that always slithered in my ears with the older Flynn-Fletcher boy. I had no time to doubt, to overanalyze. And I had said two.

For the second time that night, I brought forth mass hysteria with a single word, but I shouted over them, unwilling and unable to respond to their questions until I actually found answers of my own.

"Hey, I've answered my three questions. I'm off the hook." I refused to meet either Flynn-Fletcher's eyes.

A few mornings ago, the wonderful Gretchen had tactfully overlooked Ginger and I's less than subtle back-and-forth when we were comforting Adyson, but the rest of the group wouldn't be so considerate; I had to move on before they had time to dwell.

"Gretchen, truth or dare?" I asked, ignoring the continued barrage of questions hurdling through at me through the air.

The smallest member of our troop turned pink, her hand drifting to push her glasses up her nose. Demonstrating an incredible amount of trust in me, she replied, "dare."

I wanted something fun and party-like, but not mortifying like Adyson's dare for me. I decided to go with a classic.

"Two ice cubes down the shirt," I said. "One on each side, and they have to stay there until they melt."

That dare had been given to me in the past. Poor darling. Although, I had to admit that being on the observing side was quite entertaining. Everything in life was funnier if you weren't the victim.

The game continued, the hot seat bouncing from one person to the next. Milly had to try and drink soda while standing on her head. Holly told us about the embarrassing time when she'd accidentally used the boy's bathroom the first week of high school. Irving was asked to reveal something no one knew about him—and I will forever be scarred by his answer…

There were just some things that were _never_ meant to be known.

It was a night of interactions between crushes, apparently. First Baljeet and Ginger kissed, then Katie was dared to mock-propose to Django, complete with an embarrassing speech leading up to the question.

That was another one courtesy of Adyson. Her dares were way beyond anyone's comfort zone. Although, I guess that was what made it okay. We were all uncomfortable, and that was the only thing that made this alright_. _In a weird way, it was a bonding experience.

Buford asked Adyson how far she'd gone with a guy, but I'd learned my lesson with Irving; I did my best to tune out the entirety of her answer. Instead, I sang Lindana songs in my head and waited for it to be over.

"My turn to choose," she sang when she was finished, tapping her finger against her lip menacingly.

All I could think was, _her poor, poor victim._ I hoped it wasn't me. I couldn't pick truth after what I'd revealed; their question would have been more invasive than I was prepared to answer. I would have no choice but to go with dare, and there would be no backing down. No matter the dare, I'd have to do it.

She took a long, melodramatic breath, her eyes slowly roving over every face in the room before resting on one.

"Phineas, truth or dare?"

* * *

><p><strong>PHINEAS<strong>

Ah, yes, the dreaded moment when they would finally remember no one had asked me yet. It had arrived.

So far, I'd had an alright evening. At the very least, I couldn't say I wasn't entertained by my friends' antics. I was just massively out of my comfort zone. Kissing and romance and embarrassment—these things were beyond my nature. Now my friends would surely drag me into it, kicking and screaming if they had to.

Thus, _truth or dare? _was one question for which I didn't actually want an answer. Never thought that day would come.

"Can't I just, you know… spectate?" I asked hopefully, looking to Buford and Adyson, the clear ringleaders of the inappropriate activities.

"Oh no, Pointy," Buford bellowed, crushing an empty pop can in his hands. "You ain't getting out of this."

_Sigh._ As I expected. I just wished anyone but Adyson would have asked me. The suggestions she made were completely nuts! The general pattern in the room showed that her questions were more tolerable than her dares, but I wasn't so sure I wanted to answer any questions tonight.

My brain had taken a trip on an emotional rollercoaster today—and not the fun, musical kind. Rather, it had teetered in that moment when you're up high, looking down at the ground, knowing at any second you would plummet, and just waiting. Waiting for time to resume, waiting for the release, waiting for the fall.

I felt like I was on the brink of something big, but the springs just wouldn't expand, the pistons wouldn't kick, and I wouldn't drop. I was suspended at the top.

No, I didn't need any more. I had enough questions, enough answers I was searching for—and at the center of it all was Isabella Garcia-Shapiro.

"Tick tock, Phineas," Adyson cooed, her bright purple fingernails drumming a rhythm on her cheek. "Pick one. _Truth or dare?_"

I took a deep breath. "Dare."

For a second, she looked surprised, then impressed, and then contemplative in a most unnerving way.

"Phineas," she drawled, her green eyes glimmering with a distinct curiosity, "I have two options for you. You get to pick which one you want."

I nodded, at once thankful for and utterly freaked out by the idea of options.

"I dare you to either kiss a girl of your choice, or spin a bottle and kiss that girl."

The sound of my heart pounding against my ribcage was the loudest sound in the room. My mind rejected her words, closing down my thought processes and refusing to listen. _What did she say?_ I hadn't heard her correctly, had I?

"Adyson, that is too much," Baljeet said, a few other people nodding their heads in agreement.

"Oh, no it's not," Adyson protested.

"Is so," the Indian replied, but Milly cut him off.

"Well, it's no worse than what you were dared to do," she mumbled, staring down at her hands.

"Well, yes, but—"

I had of course been uncomfortable this whole time, but now it morphed into something else entirely. The uneasiness from the ice cream shop was back, like there was some underlying pulse to the happenings around me. There was a subtle thrumming to my friends' words, to their actions, that I was just starting to recognize.

"But what?" I asked. "Why is it different because it's me?"

Baljeet stared at me, his mouth hanging open like a fish stranded on a dock. "N-no, that is not what I—I didn't mean… oh never mind." He covered his eyes with one hand, his other making a dismissive gesture in the air.

I guess that settled it.

"Pick one girl to kiss, or spin a bottle, and kiss the girl it lands on?" I asked Adyson, and she nodded. My head returned the motion.

I couldn't believe what I was thinking right now… I couldn't believe that the second Adyson gave me my dare, my mind snapped down on one name, and one name only. I must have thought of her so quickly because I was the most comfortable with her.

Because… because… any other reason wouldn't be okay. Because she was my best friend, and best friends didn't automatically think of the other person when dared to kiss someone. And because Buford and Baljeet thought she was pining over someone else who—newsflash!—apparently _wasn't_ my brother.

"Okay." I took a calming breath. "Option one."

The room was silent. _Breathe, Phineas. _I turned toward Isabella, and she was suddenly a statue. Her dark blue irises watched me, suddenly wary, but I mustered a small semblance of my usual confidence.

Giving her my best apologetic look, I brushed a few strands of hair behind her ear.

"Sorry about this," I murmured. She hadn't moved a millimeter since I'd turned to her. She hadn't breathed, hadn't blinked. I leaned in.

* * *

><p><em>RR, please!_

_Daw, Isabella said two… that's gotta make Ferb happy._

_And Phineas… well, looks like he's really getting somewhere._

_Before this night is up, everything goes crazy. See you then!_

_Love, Lilly-Belle_


	28. Karma

_One day off from the two month anniversary of this story! Yay!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Phineas and Ferb._

* * *

><p>CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT:<p>

Karma

**ISABELLA**

"Option one," Phineas breathed, and suddenly I couldn't.

I couldn't make sense of it. I couldn't even remember what option one was anymore. I couldn't understand why everyone else was suddenly looking at me… until I saw that Phineas was looking at me too.

And it hit me.

It hit me that he was choosing _me._

It hit me hard.

"Sorry about this," he said quietly, is eyes reflecting his apologetic words. His hand moved up, brushing a few stands of hair behind my ear, his fingers lingering on my cheek for just a second too long—just a second longer than Phineas would ever have let them linger before.

I was a sculpture. I was stone, head to toe. I was unable to move. To think, breathe, accept, deny, appreciate, wonder—

Phineas Flynn leaned forward...

And pressed his lips to my cheek.

The pressure was feathery-light, just along my cheekbone, and I felt my skin flush. In a second, the warmth was gone.

"What the hell was _that_?" Buford bellowed, leaning forward like he was going to pummel the redhead next to me. He was joined by multiple other cries of protest.

"What do you mean?" Phineas said with a… oh wow. Phineas was grinning. A giant grin that went all the way to his eyes, shining with mirth.

"That wasn't your dare!" Adyson cried just as indignantly as the bully, heads around the room bobbing up and down in agreement.

"You said I had to kiss one girl here, and I did."

Mouths opened. Mouths closed. He was absolutely right. Adyson never specified what kind of kiss, or for how long. Of course Phineas would be the one find little loopholes in Truth or Dare. And he was grinning because he'd outsmarted the crazy partiers… No other reason.

Because everything with Phineas came down to logic and fun. That was all.

_That's not true,_ whispered a tiny voice in the back of my head. I told it to shut up, but it didn't listen. _You know that moment was unexpectedly charged. That there was something in it that wasn't typical of the Phineas you know._

As frightening as it was, the voice had a point. Something about how Phineas brushed aside my hair, grazed my cheek, kissed it—something about the way he was looking at me right now...

Phineas was always an open book. His expression now was a complex hodgepodge, but the elements were discernable. Frustration, like when ran into a mechanical problem that was hard to fix. Lost, like those days when he wasn't allowed to invent and just sort of… cracked. Curiosity, like he'd just discovered something and couldn't wait to start drawing up blueprints.

But there was a new one, too. Something that Phineas never expressed: insecurity.

His hand drifted up to scratch his ear, and his eyes quickly darted away.

What was happening?

I looked to Ferb next, searching his face. Despite how well I knew him, I could read nothing in his eyes. He was too good at hiding emotions. I didn't like it. I didn't want him to have to suppress or control. It made me feel… so guilty.

He was watching his younger brother, every aspect of his features drenched with cool ennui. Sensing my gaze, he looked at me, and the corner of his mouth pulled up: a reassuring smile. It somehow felt empty.

The rest of the room stopped their bellyaching at Phineas' circumvention of the dare, clearly catching on to the shift in the atmosphere. They could tell as well as I could that something was off with Phineas. Something was different.

He was somehow more pensive, more reserved. But what did that mean?

"I think that's enough of this game for now," Adyson announced awkwardly. She stood up, and most of the circle followed her example. Meanwhile, I was still doing my best statue imitation, completely unable to move.

Next to me, Phineas took a deep breath, and his usual jovial self resurfaced from whatever was happening before. He stood up, stretched up on his toes, then offered me his hand. Slowly, I took it, and he pulled me up.

"Sorry if I made you uncomfortable," he said quietly, though I knew the whole room was listening with bated breath.

"It's fine," I replied automatically, but cleared my throat. He deserved better than just my go-to response. "I mean, you didn't make me feel uncomfortable. It was actually… kind of sweet, so don't worry."

I gave him my best reassuring smile, which he returned. His eyes sparked in a way that told me he was pleased with my answer. Then we both realized he hadn't let go of my hand, and quickly parted without a word.

I moved across the room to Adyson's food table, hoping that being out of the center of the space would somehow get me out of the center of attention. Phineas didn't follow, starting a conversation with Baljeet, which helped to diffuse some of the tension. Everyone was talking loudly, deliberating on what to do next.

It allowed me the time to discreetly snatch a carrot stick and breathe. Which lasted about a minute. Ferb started walking over.

_Oh god oh god oh god. What would I even say?_ I had no clue what he was thinking right now, no clue how he felt about what just occurred in the game.

My alarm was apparently written on my face, because he raised his eyebrow, his shoulders shaking with silent laughter.

"What?" I snapped a little too defensively.

He glanced behind him, making sure there was at least a good distance between us and everyone else before he deigned to speak.

"I'm just enjoying this wonderful validation of karma."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, not much," he smirked deviously. "It's just… you teased me earlier for being embarrassed, and now look at you. I walk over here to grab some food, and you're equally pink from being flustered and white like you've seen a ghost."

"Well that's only because you make things so difficult," I mumbled sardonically. This only seemed to delight him further.

"How so?"

"Because you just love to drive people crazy. It's like you get a kick by waking up every morning and… and sprinkling yourself with magical enigma pixie dust!"

He stared. He blinked. And he burst out laughing. I mean, this wasn't the subtle chuckle I was used to from Ferb, but actual laughter. Laughter that made everyone else stop and wonder what made the silent boy suddenly make noise.

"Okay," he took a deep breath, still trying to contain his mirth. "Okay, you're going to have to explain that absolutely ludicrous statement."

He was speaking quietly enough that no one else would be able to hear him, but others were definitely paying attention now. I tried to ignore them the best I could while still keeping my voice low.

"You just love being this enigmatic Mystery Man," I huffed. "Delighted by how much they want you to talk, elated by the questions you'll never answer, and I think you get some thrill from hiding your emotions. You have this straight-faced calm that everyone falls for, but it doesn't work on me anymore. I want to know what you're thinking."

"I'm not hiding my emotions from you." He plucked the uneaten carrot from my hand and took a bite of it with a loud _crunch_. "I think you are perfectly aware of how amused I am right now."

Why was he being so calm? Not only calm, but playful, joking, and facetious. It made no sense in the context of all that had happened.

"But what about with what just happened with Phineas," I retorted. "I can't tell a single thing you were thinking a few minutes ago. How am I supposed to know what's going through your head when you have zero reaction?"

He suddenly looked surprised.

"Isabella, I thought the last thing you would have wanted was for me to reveal any emotions. I figured you wouldn't want anyone else to know… you know…" he rubbed the back of his neck, his voice lowering even more, "that I could have had a reason to be upset."

I snatched back the remaining half of my carrot and ate it; it was the only way I could think to demonstrate control. He just rolled his eyes, but I pretended my action had its intended effect.

"What I _want_," I started, "is for you to not feel like you have to fade into the background. You always do that. It's okay to have reactions, and to feel things, and lose your cool and let other people see that. You don't have to be the silent, indifferent Ferb all the time."

"So what does that mean?" He leaned on the table, looking far more relaxed than I expected. "You wanted me to throw a fit when Phineas was dared to kiss you? Wanted me to storm out, or something?"

My mouth snapped open indignantly.

"No, that's not—that's not at all what I—I just hate seeing you suppress things. You already don't talk in front of the rest of the group; I don't want that to bleed out into everything else too." Then the mental image of Ferb storming out of anywhere caught up with me. It was so preposterously out of character it made me giggle. "You didn't actually consider storming out, did you?"

"Heavens, no," he chortled. "He had an opportunity to kiss you, and the idiot still went for your cheek." His head lilted to the side, his eyes gleaming with something I didn't quite understand. "The way I see it, your lips are still mine, and I thus don't see any need to be overly upset."

That comment made me anxiously look over his shoulder, checking that the others were still too far away to hear our quiet conversation. I got a few confused glances, but I figured that was because they'd never seen Ferb carry out an actual, verbal conversation. Adequately appeased that we were in the clear, I turned my attention back to the green-haired boy.

"You're taking all of this suspiciously well."

"Well, I have _to. _Why wouldn't I want _to _take it well? I hope that doesn't upset you _too _much_._"

I was suddenly very, very embarrassed; he wasn't being very subtle in his verbal emphasis. To. Too. _Two_. This was about the answer to my last truth question. That was why he wasn't freaking out, and why he was being so jovial right now. Because he was caught up in my answer.

With that, he winked and tossed me another carrot stick. He turned around, and it was funny seeing how many heads suddenly looked away, our friends pretending not to have been paying any attention as he rejoined the group.

They had all come to a consensus to play a massive poker game, which wasn't something I was good at. At all. I only knew the rules because the Fireside Girls had to get a card games patch, and I really sucked at it.

"Phineas just said we should make it strip poker!" Buford teased, slinging his arm around the suddenly flushed redhead.

"Hey! I did not!" he protested, shoving Buford off. "No strip poker. Nothing crazy like that."

"Well, we have to have something to make it interesting," Adyson whined, but the general consensus was to remain clothed.

"How about the winner gets something special?" Baljeet offered.

"What, like they get to kiss someone, or something?" Holly asked.

"Brilliant!" our hostess exclaimed, bouncing up and down on her toes. "But it needs more. Like… winner gets Seven Minutes in Heaven! Their choice for partner in the guest bedroom closet!"

I couldn't help but laugh a little._ One of my poor, poor girls…_

The winner would be Buford; he played poker all the time, and was ruthless with it. The bully definitely wouldn't pick me, since I would castrate him in ten seconds flat. That meant this arrangement would be dooming one of my girls, which would be oh so very cruel of me… but I found myself shrugging and nodding with the rest of the group.

Entertainment was entertainment, after all.

The game began, all of us sitting on the floor again, and went on for a while. It was a good distraction from the crazy relationship drama that permeated every other minute of my life. That didn't make me any better at it, though.

Needless, to say, I was the first person out. I folded when I should have played, played when I should have folded, and found I couldn't bluff worth a flying unicorn tail.

Once I was out, I moved over to the couch on the far side of the room and watched the nearby fireplace. The flames danced along the fake wood, but I'd always preferred watching the steady blues at its base. It was so warm.

With a deep breath, I closed my eyes, enjoying the heat lap at my skin. At first I listened to the hoots and howls behind me, but it eventually drifted out of my mind. I'm not sure how long I stayed that way, but I was jarred back to alertness at the sound of someone approaching.

"Room for me?" Phineas asked, smiling sweetly.

"Of course." I scooted over, and he plopped down on the couch. "You lose too?"

"Of course I did," he laughed, propping his legs up on a small coffee table. "I'm not exactly the best liar."

I snorted. Yeah, that was true.

"That's too bad, Phineas," I admonished, filling my voice with exuberant amounts of melodrama. "You're going to miss out on a _whole_ seven minutes in heaven."

He laughed again. "How will I ever survive?"

That brought me up short. He was joking, of course, but something about it bothered me. Ferb had raised a good point earlier, about Phineas having the opportunity to kiss a girl, but still going out of his way to avoid it. He was doing it again—not caring about any sort of physical intimacy.

All day I'd been worrying how I would react if Phineas finally came around, but even when he had a chance to kiss me, he still hadn't taken advantage of it. I had been thinking about Phineas starting to like me, but what if I was taking his recent behavior incorrectly?

What if Phineas Flynn was repulsed by the idea of me liking him? So much so that he wouldn't stoop so low as to kiss me, even for just a dare?

Then I mentally slapped myself. That wasn't within Phineas' character, and I knew it. I was just letting the tension and complexity of the situation get to me. But still… I wanted to know…

"Phineas," I started slowly, wringing the ends of my skirt in my hands, "can I ask you a question?"

"You just did," he teased, and I shot him a look. He always did that to me! "Just kidding, Isabella. I quote you from earlier; you know you can ask me anything."

I nodded and took a deep breath.

"You're almost eighteen. What eighteen year old boy wouldn't want Seven Minutes in Heaven with the girl of his choice?"

"I don't understand—"

"We're going to start senior year in a couple months, and you haven't even batted your eyelashes at one girl. You never notice any of them, never paid attention to school dances, never showed any interest in dating, never—never showed any interest in anything to do with girls at all."

I didn't know where all this was coming from; it was word vomit incarnate, but I was just so tired of thinking about Phineas and… wondering_._

"And?" Phineas asked, his eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "What's your point?"

"I guess," I sighed, meeting his eyes, "I guess I just want to know why."

He looked down at his hands, rubbing them together awkwardly. And were his cheeks red? With a shock, I realized my question made him nervous. Phineas was never anything but confident.

"Wow, Isabella," he chuckled, "so parties bring out your intrepid reporter side, huh? Noted."

I stared at him raising one of my eyebrows. "You're not getting out of answering," I said coolly when he gave no indication of responding. For once, we were going to talk about this. He sighed in defeat.

"It's not like I _never_ considered girls, or dating, or anything. I'll admit it was rare, but not '_never.' _I just thought there wasn't any point to it."

"No point?" My fists balled up the tip of my skirt's fabric, my eyes drifting back to the fire. I decided I was right about it before: hot, beautiful, and terribly destructive.

"Yeah. I mean, if any girl liked me, it might be different, but—"

"_If _any girl liked you?" I couldn't believe what I just heard.

"Yeah. If a girl had an interest in me, I'd give something a try, but… I'm just so bad with romance stuff. I like to put my energy into projects that I know I'm good at, you know?"

I figured if I twisted the hem of my skirt any tighter, I might end up with permanent damage. Grudgingly, I forced my fingers to stop clenching the material.

"Hey guys," Baljeet said, walking around the couch and dropping down on Phineas' other side. Trailing him was Ginger, Django, Holly, Milly and Katie, who spread out around them. "What are you talking about?"

Phineas looked down at his hands, indicating I was supposed to answer. Usually, in this kind of situation, I would reply _nothing_ and the conversation would move on to other topics, but… I didn't want to do that this time.

I was already down the rabbit hole; I might as well get the most out of this.

"We were just talking about Phineas' dating life," I declared.

To my delight, I was met with six utterly shocked and scandalized faces. Phineas rolled his eyes, apparently not overly surprised that I told them. He probably felt that he had nothing to hide, and didn't even mind it. Hell, there was no probably. He was too innocent to have something to hide.

"Isabella was wondering why I didn't date," Phineas explained, "and I told her I'd consider it if there was a girl that liked me. Beyond that, there wasn't really a point."

The six faces went from scandalized to absolutely dumbstruck. Twelve eyes flashed to mine, each one saying, _Wait, what? Seriously?_

"You mean, you think there's _never_ been a girl that's had a crush on you?" Gretchen squeaked.

"Yeah…" Phineas responded, but there was doubt in his voice, like he was just realizing he could have been wrong. "Why?"

Suddenly, I was upset. His words were wounding, disappointing, and I was even a little mad. The anger was only there for a second, before it sizzled down to an overall feeling of _hurt_, but it was unpleasant nonetheless. And for some reason, I wanted him to know that.

In an abrupt surge of bravery, I opened my idiotic mouth. "Because it's not true, Phineas. You've just been ridiculously blind and never seen it." My voice shook, and I didn't look up from my skirt. I didn't want to see the corral of stunned faces staring at me; I could already feel the intensity of their gazes, their incredulity.

_Stupid, stupid Isabella! Why did I just say that?! _Now he would surely figure things out, and probably laugh at me. Things would get awkward between us, and even if Ferb was there to pick up the pieces, everyone would think he was just some sort of rebound guy. Neither boy deserved that.

Before another word could be said, there was an explosion of shouts from the poker game behind us.

"We have a winner!" Adyson yelled above the clamor. Everyone else shifted their attention to our hostess, but I figured it was futile.

"Who do you think Buford will pick?" I asked no one in particular. "Adyson? Milly?"

Phineas glanced over the back of the couch and let out a laugh. "Buford didn't win, actually."

"Really? There's a surprise. He's so good at poker." I returned my feet to the ground, trying to smooth the skirt I'd mangled. "Well, if he didn't win, then who—"

All at once the room was silent save my voice, my words the only filler in the soundless space, and my question died out. My hands froze along the white fabric. The heaviness in the air settled down on me in thick waves, and I slowly, hesitantly, looked up.

Irony and karma: they were indeed very interesting, very terrifying things. I was saddened by the idea that Ferb always faded into the background, and now the first thing my eyes found was Ferb's hand.

Ferb's hand, held right out to me.

"My choice, right?" he smirked.

* * *

><p><em>RR please!_

_TROLLOLOLOLOL… Like I'd actually make Phinabella's first real kiss some stupid dare. That would be terribly anticlimactic for their relationship. That would be a super awkward and terribly unromantic first kiss, so no. Could that be coming? ;)_

_And Ferb… my lovely darling… He reaaaally liked Isabella's answer ^.^ Gave him the moxie to pull this little stunt at the end. For those who liked chapter 20, you'll like next chapter. Because Ferb won and he's choosing her! *Squeals* This should be interesting for everyone else..._

_But be warned, everything will be hitting the fan soon. Very, very soon. So soon I can feel the drama breathing down my neck!_

_Love you, darlings! Thanks to those who review!_

_~Lilly-Belle_


	29. Restraint

_Hope you're having a wonderful day so far :)_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Phineas and Ferb._

* * *

><p>CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE:<p>

Restraint

**FERB**

_Two. _Tonight, two might have possibly become my new favorite number. Isabella was asked how many boys she thought she'd fallen in love with, and she said _two. _Phineas, of course. But there was also me. I never thought she'd ever see me on even a remotely close level.

The second that word left her mouth it was like... I didn't even know what it was like. Wonderful. Even when Phineas chose to kiss her, I was alright. Well, that's not to say I wasn't bothered by it. I definitely was. I was undeniably bothered by it, but I was too thrilled to be too upset. Then he'd only kissed her on the cheek, and I just felt even better.

When I followed her to the food table, my good mood still hadn't soured, which was why I was surprised to see _she_ was upset, especially at such an unimportant thing as my response during the game.

She was mad that I hadn't shown any reaction when Phineas picked her. Although, perhaps mad wasn't quite the word. She was more peeved, upset that I continuously chose to fade into the background. She wasn't wrong; I did hide my emotions behind an endlessly quiet façade, and never talked to anyone but her and my brother, but I didn't realize that might trouble her.

At first I thought it was a bit selfish of her, like she was surprised I hadn't jealously fawned over her, but I quickly realized that wasn't what she had been getting at. She had been genuinely distraught by continuous need to hide. Behind my silence. Behind my mastery of an indifferent appearance. It was strangely endearing.

A small, hopeful part of my mind even looked at it as… some sort of green light. If seemed that she was saying it was alright if I let the others know I cared about her, let some of my restraint go, maybe took a chance with her.

Perhaps that was my _two-_addled mind being a little over-zealous, but it made me see things in a new way. As I walked away from the food table, I thought, maybe for once, I didn't have to be the forgotten afterthought of _Phineas and Ferb._ At least, not to her.

When poker was suggested, I almost wanted to laugh. When Adyson declared a prize for the winner, I did indeed chuckle under my breath. After all, I had a wonderful poker face.

Poor Isabella was absolutely dreadful at the game, and the first to lose all of her chips. Phineas was next, and I didn't like having to watch the two of them sitting and talking by the fire, but the conversation at the table kept me grounded.

"We had a weird time earlier," Buford was saying quietly, giving a basic description of the interaction between Phineas and Isabella at the ice cream parlor earlier—during which Katie, Ginger, and Holly surrendered, but remained sitting with us to stay part of the conversation. "I really think Dinner Bell is coming around. You should have seen how he reacted."

"Reacted to what?" Gretchen asked, tossing a couple chips to the center of the floor.

"The idea that Isabella liked somebody," Baljeet replied. "He was uncomfortable with it to say the very least."

Buford revealed his hand this round, and Django threw in the towel.

"So you think he's close?" Adyson queried, stretching out on her stomach like a cat and sifting her cards around.

"Well, if he is starting to feel jealous because he thinks Isabella likes someone, then that could very well mean he is starting to see her in a romantic way. I think he is."

_Wait…_ Was Baljeet actually saying Phineas was jealous… of me? _Me?_ That idea was so foreign, so ridiculous, that I couldn't even comprehend it. Not Phineas Flynn, the wonderful, outspoken, kindhearted genius. Why would he be jealous of me?

Not to mention that meant Phineas suspected something was going on between Isabella and I. My mind splintered with that idea, taking it three different ways: 1) what? 2) _what?_ And 3) well… if he already knew something was up, why not be as bold as I liked? What reason did I have to tiptoe around the issue anymore?

"Wait—but why would he be jealous of anyone? Everyone knows she's loved him for years."

"Everyone but him." Baljeet said. "He has no clue, so of course he'd get jealous thinking she liked someone else."

I could vaguely see where this was going—Baljeet somehow postulated that I was trying to get Phineas and Isabella together. That I was helping her make my brother jealous. I just hoped he wouldn't actually name me in the conversation; I didn't want to face any questions, since it was clearly the _farthest_ thing from the truth.

Instead, our Indian friend sighed and laid his cards down. "I'm out. The probability of my loss is all but certain."

"I'm with you, 'Jeet," Irving agreed, tossing his cards on the floor. That left it down to Gretchen, Adyson, Buford and I still playing, but their chances were looking slim. Baljeet stood up, muttering something about checking up on the two, and most of the group left with him.

Buford shook his head amusedly. "Ferb, you're the best wingman in the world."

I tossed a few chips into the pot and the others followed suit. I wanted to tell them that I wasn't, I really wasn't. That I didn't quite know what I was.

"What makes you say that?" Adyson asked offhandedly, mulling hard over her cards. "Ferb, did you do something to help the two of them get together?"

_I hope not._

Although I thought he'd been on the other side of the room, Irving was suddenly right next to me, his hand on my shoulder. If I was the type of person that jumped, I would have, but I wasn't. Instead, I settled for the jarring thought of just how strange Irving could be sometimes, despite his friendly nature.

"Oh, you know Ferb. He's always talking with Isabella."

"Really?" That seemed to interest Adyson, perhaps a little too much.

Irving nodded, opening his mouth to speak, but I wanted to stop this conversation where it was. Thankfully, I had the perfect out; I laid down my straight flush and watched the indignant expressions bloom around the circle. With cries of shock and dismay, my three friends thoroughly surrendered.

"We have a winner!" Adyson yelled, and everyone else chattered excitedly behind us. I stood up and turned around.

When I won the game of poker, I knew it would elicit an interesting response from everybody. I could see it in their eyes, even if they didn't say it aloud; _who the hell would _Ferb_ choose_? The anticipation surrounding me was deliciously thick.

Naturally, there was only one girl, but no one else knew that. _As of right now_, no one else knew that, I corrected. I suddenly felt gravity again.

It was one of those weird decision moments, suddenly pressing itself down on my shoulders. What I did, how I acted—this was the moment when I stuck to the norm or defied expectations.

I chose.

Without a word to anyone, I slowly strolled across the room.

Before I saw her face, I could tell she was upset, as evidenced by her skirt. It was terribly wrinkled on the bottom, the victim of nervous wringing or frustrated mangling. Her shoulders were tense and apprehensive.

When I finally saw her face, staring intently down at her clothing, I knew the expression well; this was how she looked every time on my bed, when Phineas had said or done something that hurt her.

I planted myself firmly in front of her, and the room went dead silent. I held out my hand.

"…didn't win, then who—"

The unnatural quiet finally dawned on Isabella, and her question fizzled out. She looked up, her eyes first seeing my hand, then, after a second, trailing up to my face. It was clear in her expression that I had startled her. She looked confused, and I could see she hadn't made the connection yet. She hadn't realized what I was doing.

"My choice, right?" I quipped, unable to keep the smirk from my face. Her eyebrows furrowed for just a second, then realization sparked in her eyes.

Honestly, I wasn't quite sure how Isabella would respond. I thought she would most likely look around to each speechless face in the room, panicked about what to do. She would weigh her options, considering the pros and cons of taking my hand, versus sticking with the view that she was helplessly in love with my brother. I wasn't even sure she would take it.

But I'd chosen to take that risk.

She utterly surprised me, along with every other person in the basement. Without breaking eye contact or any hesitation, she took my hand. The room exploded with gasps, wolf whistles, and cries of both disbelief and amusement.

I smiled and pulled her off the couch, and the wolf whistles doubled in volume. Then one voice cut them off.

"Wait—_what_?" Phineas exclaimed, standing up too. He was the smartest person I knew, but he looked like he hadn't quite followed what had happened. "You won and you're—you're picking _Isabella_?"

I nodded, while a stunned Adyson declared that, "a deal's a deal."

Doing my best to pay no further mind to my brother, I pulled Isabella along to the basement's spare bedroom after Adyson. Our hostess, with a distinctly quizzical look, opened the door to the closet and ushered us inside. It was small and dark, but I guess that was the point.

Isabella's face was bright red, and I hoped mine didn't resemble that color. That would have been mortifying for everyone to see. Thankfully—or perhaps unthankfully, if one looked into it too much—Adyson was too surprised by the recent turn of events to regale us with her usual commentary. Without a word, she shut the door.

"You okay, love?" I blurted out as soon as we were alone. "You looked upset. Your skirt, it was all wrinkled, and you—"

Her lips pressed to mine and her hands slid around my neck. _What… was I saying? _Something about making sure she was okay? Oh, this felt good… but I pulled back.

"Hey, I know what Seven Minutes in Heaven usually means, but I just wanted to make sure you're alright. You seemed—"

"_Stop_ being so _damn_ perfect," she snapped. "I'm fine." She meant to reassure, but there was a sad undertone to her words.

"Isabella," I sighed, cupping her cheek in my palm. "I hate seeing him upset you like this. I hate seeing you hurting."

"Then cheer me up," she said in a voice so seductive I didn't know what to do with myself. I had no idea she could talk… like _that._ She'd always been beautiful, but the way she'd said it, trailing her finger down my chest, was _so_ hot_. _So _excruciatingly_ sexy.

I could do nothing but stare in question, my mind forgetting those insignificant little things called words. In response, she pecked me on the lips again. That was all the persuading I needed.

In one fluid movement, my arms were around her, and our lips met more forcefully. Once again, she tasted amazing, like sugar, lemonade, and summer all in one. It was intoxicating. She sighed into my mouth, and I felt the tension drain out of her.

I cradled the small of her back, pulling her to me completely. My other hand trailed up her spine and into her hair, and she shuddered under my fingers. Her hands, which had been resting on my shoulders, slid up so her arms were around my neck, and her chest was suddenly pressed against mine.

Bloody hell, all of my restraint came crashing down.

A gasp escaped her lips as I rushed forward, pressing her flat against the wall. In response, she arched her back even more, pulling on me so that every line of our bodies touched. She whimpered like she had the first time I'd kissed her, and my stomach was set aflame with feelings more intense than I'd ever experienced before.

She gently tugged on my lower lip, before pressing her mouth against mine harshly. She was being so sexy, so aggressive, so… out of character for Isabella.

A small part of me—the part that grew up the quiet boy in the shadow of a vivacious brother—couldn't help but fear why this was happening right now. It wasn't because Phineas had upset her again, and she didn't know what else to do. _Right_? That wasn't the reason behind all that had happened between us this summer. _Was it?_

"Ferb…" she growled mid-kiss, sensing my distraction. She pulled on me more forcefully, reminding me that she was mine right now. And she was right. We'd have to talk about this later, but now was now. And I knew she couldn't deny this… whatever it was. Chemistry. Uncontrollable passion. No matter what you called it, it made my mind melt.

Isabella groaned against my lips, and I understood her frustration. We were as close as we could get, but it just wasn't enough. We needed _closer_, no matter how impossible.

Both of my hands slid down to her waist, tingling as they felt the skin that her disheveled shirt had exposed. She made a small sound in the back of her throat at the touch, and I quickly slid my hands under the fabric, coming to rest just under the line of her bra. Her skin was so feverishly warm, so unbelievably smooth.

I wanted every inch of it, wanted it to be the oxygen I was lacking.

We broke apart to gasp for air, our chests heaving against the other's. We were both unbearably winded, but I didn't want to stop. I wanted more, so much more. I could never get enough of her.

"Ferb…" she whispered mid-lungful, and I lost it all over again.

I went straight for her neck, kissing down her pulse and back up her jaw. Her breaths morphed from winded pants to staggered gasps, and her fingernails dug into my back. When I finally reached where her neck met her collarbone, her back arched with the fierce moan that escaped her lips.

I'd found a sweet spot. I kissed her there again, then again, pulling back just enough to see her reaction. She was biting her lip to try to stay quiet, her eyes squeezed shut and her chest heaving with whatever she was feeling right now.

_Damn, I loved her._

I kissed her nose. I kissed one cheek, then the other. I kissed her lips, then trailed small ones along her jaw.

I kissed farther back on her neck, at a curve just under her ear, and immediately felt a jolt go through her body. It was so intense she shoved against me, unwilling to face whatever I'd just caused in her.

I simply wouldn't have that.

I grabbed her wrists and pulled them up, pinning them against the wall and utterly stunning my girl beyond any form of protest. Half a second later, I was back on the spot I'd discovered. I started with gentle kisses, but didn't have the restraint to keep that up very long. Within moments, Isabella was writhing against me as I nipped and sucked hard.

"_Oh… _oh god_. Ferb!"_

In my momentary distraction at her whimper, she was able to wrench her wrists free. Quite forcefully, she grabbed my face, pulling it back up before she smashed her lips against mine. A low moan grew from my throat, and my fingers clamped down on her sides.

I couldn't stand it anymore; without breaking the kiss, my hands slid down her thighs until I felt the bottom hem of her skirt. So easily, I slipped my hands underneath. Her breath grew even more ragged as my fingers glided up the sides of her legs, moving tantalizingly slow, until I was holding her just below her hips.

I was about to hitch her legs up so they could wrap around my waist.

But the door swung open.

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><p><em>RR please!_

_Yes, another cliffhanger. I know these past ones have been devious, but I've updated very quickly to make it up to you guys! (See… I'm not_ that_ mean XD)._

_Hope you liked Ferb and Isabella closet time :) I'm still new to writing make-out scenes, so I hope it's alright. Nice and shmexy? Oh! And who opened the door?_

_Next chapter… it's all Phineas. It's called, "Coalesce." Do with that what you please._

_After that is probably the most dramatic chapter I've yet to write. It's all Isabella, and let me just tell you… chapter thirty-one… the feces are about to strike the fan, and it's gonna hit hard! SOOOOO TENSE!_

_Thanks for the reviews!_

_~Lilly-Belle_


	30. Coalesce

_Just to make something in this chapter clearer, I wanted to remind you that in Chapter One, on the Valintaversary Day, Ferb tried to play wingman and said, "_If neither of you have valentines, why don't you be each other's?"__

__Glad you guys liked the closet scene. I was insecure about it, so the positive response was wonderful!__

__Okay, that's it._ Enjoy!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Phineas and Ferb._

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><p>CHAPTER THIRTY:<p>

Coalesce

**PHINEAS**

Yeah, chalk poker up to another event at this party that I was absolutely dreadful at. Bluffing wasn't exactly my style, and my heart wasn't in it anyway. I figured it was all for the better, though, because then I could just hang out with Isabella by the fire.

All through the game, she hadn't looked at me once. She hadn't looked at much of anyone, really, choosing to stare down at her cards. I couldn't help but wonder if it was my fault. I thought I'd freaked her out by choosing her for my dare.

My dare…

I'd been trying not to think about it. I did my best to force it from my mind, but… I couldn't ignore it, not after what I'd thought earlier today. I'd thought about Isabella liking some boy, and I hated it. I'd thought that no one else deserved _my_ Isabella. But that was just because I was a protective friend, right?

Well, yes, I was a protective friend, but when Adyson gave me that dare, my mind automatically jumped to my best friend. There was no other option. I _wanted_ it to be Isabella. I hadn't even considered any of the implications of that thought process, but now I was worried to even touch it. Despite what she said to the contrary, maybe I had made her uncomfortable.

I sat with her nonetheless, but something appeared to be bothering her. She didn't look at me during our conversation, staring straight ahead at the small cinders framed in brick. Watching her—with the orange of the fire glistening in her eyes and her hands wringing the end of her skirt—I once again couldn't keep myself from thinking about my dare.

It was just a dare. A simple dare. It was a kiss on the cheek, nothing more. And it was Isabella, above all else! Isabella, my best friend and neighbor. So it didn't matter. I shouldn't feel guilty for crossing some line. I shouldn't chastise myself for enjoying it. But I shouldn't be studying my best friend's profile like this, either.

She was so close again… but the conversation didn't let me dwell.

She was asking me all kinds of questions about girls, and I tried to answer them the best that I could, but I couldn't shake the idea that I'd hurt her. Was this because I chose her? I couldn't tell, but before I could ask, we were joined by a whole salvo of our friends—friends that also took a suspicious amount of curiosity in this topic.

They all started talking about my love life—or lack thereof—but they seemed indignant when I said I'd consider dating if a girl liked me.

"You mean, you think there's _never_ been a girl that's had a crush on you?" Gretchen asked, and I grew even more uneasy. They were all looking at me as if… as if I was completely clueless.

"Yeah… why?" I couldn't hold the doubt from my voice.

"Because it's not true, Phineas," Isabella said, and my blood stopped in my veins. Things became sluggish, removed—_what did she say?_ And she wasn't even finished yet. "You've just been ridiculously blind and never seen it_."_

That was when my mind decided to board a bus to the Eastern Tri-State Area. It wasn't true? I was blind? I looked to every other face, surprised to see they were all looking at me now, a few of then nodding oh so slightly. Were they… were they actually telling me that—

Adyson yelled behind us; the game was over. When I'd turned around to see what the commotion was about, I wasn't at all surprised to see that Ferb had won. Really, it was the only possible outcome; no one could bluff better than my brother.

I was happy, because I thought maybe Ferb would just laugh about winning, scoff at the prize, and put this whole Seven Minutes in Heaven business behind us. He would stroll on over to us, plop down on the couch with Isabella and I, smirk, and make a quiet joke about poker at Buford's expense.

Well, I wasn't entirely wrong. He did stroll over to us. He did regard Isabella and I. He did smirk. But he didn't sit down. Instead, he held his hand out to her. He… he held his hand out to her as an invitation.

The room went silent so suddenly that only Isabella was talking, staring down at her skirt obliviously. Completely unaware that Ferb wanted her to… that _Ferb wanted her._

But… Buford and Baljeet said nothing was going on between them, so was this all part of whatever plan the two of them concocted?

The room exploded in a plethora of responses—shouts, gasps, wolf-whistles, and all sorts of comments that only confused me further. I couldn't make sense of it, couldn't process—I most certainly couldn't hold back my outburst.

"Wait—_what_? You won and you're-you're picking _Isabella_?"

All eyes turned to me, but I could only watch my brother. I got no real response, and, just like that, the two of them were gone. Thirty seconds later, Adyson returned from the guest bedroom, and everyone could do nothing but stare at each other.

"Okay… so…" Adyson rolled back and forth on her heals awkwardly. "Anyone want to tell me what the hell is going on?"

Silence.

I could practically taste the quiet, congealing in our throats to ensure its reign. Why was nobody talking? Were they really that surprised that Ferb might have chosen Isabella? Did they know she probably liked someone else? That Ferb was just "helping" our neighbor?

Then one voice jumped up through the increasingly apprehensive room.

"Oh boy," Ginger exclaimed, laughing a little too loudly. "Who could have seen _that _coming? Because, like, it was completely unexpected. None of us could have seen that coming, am I right?" She laughed awkwardly again, and everyone turned to her.

"Ginger," Adyson said menacingly, sauntering up to the girl in question. "Is there anything going on that we don't know about?"

I was surprised by a desperate tug in my stomach; I really wanted to know the answer. Wait, maybe I didn't want to know the answer, not if I didn't like it. But why would I not like it? Bah! I couldn't think straight.

"N-no, of course not," Ginger stammered, shaking her hands back and forth defensively.

"Ginger…" Adyson repeated with even more threat in her bright green eyes.

The Japanese girl started stuttering incomprehensively, but was saved when Irving sprang up behind her.

"Why are you guys so surprised?" he asked flippantly. "It was pretty dang obvious a ways ago."

"Obvious?" I rasped.

"Well, the two of them talk all the time."

"Ferb and Isabella talk?" Django asked, scratching his ear.

Irving nodded. "All the time."

"Wait, as in _talk_, talk," Adyson clarified. "Like, Ferb actually speaks. _Ferb_ has legit, back-and-forth, _verbal_ conversations."

"Of course," Irving replied like this was the most axiomatic thing in the world. "Didn't you guys know that?" Everyone shook their heads, so Irving looked to me. "You knew that, didn't you, Phineas?"

I, did, words, what? I tried to order my thoughts, resulting in terribly long silence and far too many stares. I cleared my throat.

"Well… I know that Ferb is more comfortable talking to Isabella and I than the rest of you guys… if that's what you mean."

"Well yeah, that's true, but that's not what I'm talking about. The two of them banter incessantly_._ You should hear it. It's really amusing."

Irving was saying everything offhandedly, but the effects of his words were anything but casual. Did my silent brother actually have lengthy dialogues with Isabella that not even I knew about? What else had Irving observed?

"What…" I started, but couldn't finish. Irving got my question anyway.

"Well, he'd cheer her up a lot. She'd always go up to his bedroom whenever she was sad, and they'd talk for hours."

"Irving…" I started slowly, my mind reeling with the idea that Isabella had been sad _a lot_, and I hadn't noticed. I also was taken aback that she would always go to Ferb about it instead of me. I would have built her any machine or made any plan to cheer her up. Didn't she know that? But I brushed that aside.

"Uh, Irving," I started again, "how do you know what happens between Ferb and Isabella in his bedroom? How do you know… any of this?"

Then my words replayed in my head. _Ferb and Isabella in his bedroom…_ Oh _no. _Oh jeese_, no. _That thought was way too bizarre and difficult. I immediately exiled it from my mind. Everyone else's eyes were wide at my statement, too, and I felt my cheeks burn. Irving opened his mouth to answer my question, but I hurriedly waved him off.

"Never mind! I don't want to know."

With that, we settled back into a long silence. An excruciatingly unbearable silence. I didn't know just how much time had passed, but I couldn't stand it. I had to speak again.

"You know, they're probably just talking, then." I looked down at my shoes. "She seemed upset about something earlier… and apparently she always talks to _Ferb_ when she's upset."

When there was no response to this, I dared to look up. Everyone was staring at me curiously. No one said a word until Adyson took a few steps in my direction.

"Does it matter?" she asked, eyeing me coolly.

"What?"

"Does it matter, Phineas? If they're just talking, or… _more_?" I could feel my cheeks heating up again as every face in the room studied my own.

Something was going on, I realized. That question was unexpectedly heavy, and everyone was waiting for my response with held breaths. _Did it matter?_ Apparently it did. It mattered to all of them. _My_ answer mattered to them, and—

And_..._

Oh… oh my god.

The answer crashed into my gut. The muddy, confusing equation that had surrounded me finally coalesced. The pieces all rushed in, much, much too quickly, and collapsed into place.

_If neither of you have valentines, why don't you be each other's?_

_Phineas… did it ever occur to you that maybe Ferb was helping Isabella… make another boy _jealous_?_

_Because it's not true, Phineas. You've just been ridiculously blind and never seen it._

My mind broke, and my legs immediately tried to follow its example. I staggered back against the couch, using it to hold me up.

_No, no, no, nonononono, _that couldn't possibly—I couldn't possibly—_she_ couldn't possibly—

"Phineas? Baljeet asked gently. I looked up into his eyes, each overflowing with concern. "You alright?"

I muttered something unintelligible—some random string of labials that made absolutely no sense. This made no sense. Isabella, she…

She couldn't, could she? _Why_? Why would she even…

I slid down to the floor.

"Phinny?" Adyson took a few steps forward, but I ignored her.

Instead, I focused on my conversation in the ice cream parlor with Buford and Baljeet. Their confirmation of Isabella's crush, their confusion when I thought it was Ferb, their theory that he was helping her, that she was trying to make someone jealous—it all… it all made sense now.

And not only that, but so much more. Too much. Way, _way _too much. So many summer days and casual comments, so many school dances and class projects together, so many jokes made by our friends. I saw it all now with painful clarity.

"Phineas?" Baljeet crouched down to my level, his hand on my shoulder. And I suddenly wanted to know—I _had_ to know—if I'd fallen into insanity. This… just couldn't be true. _How_ could it be true?

"It's me, isn't it?" I barely got out, so quietly Baljeet had to strain to hear. "It's—it's me," I tried again, ignoring the way my voice trembled from my throat. "It's… god, it's me."

I looked around the room, watching each face shift from confusion to sympathy, but that wasn't concrete enough. I looked to Baljeet.

"Earlier you said—you said there was nothing going on between Ferb and Isabella. You said it was all part of some plan, and that he was helping her make someone... someone else jealous." I gulped. "And… it was me. It's—it's always been me, hasn't it?"

Baljeet watched me for some time before—with a movement so small I could barely catch it—he nodded.

He nodded.

Oh god, he nodded.

The room was suddenly too small, too crowded. _Isabella liked me._ There wasn't enough air in here anymore. _Isabella Garcia-Shapiro has liked me for years._ I needed some space to breathe.

"I… I, uh…" I staggered to my feet, but couldn't convey my needs to my friends. Much to both my relief and chagrin, I was an open book; everyone appeared to understand. They parted as I made my way to the stairs. Only when I was halfway up could I called back, "I… just need a minute."

Or ten. Or maybe a lifetime, because that was how much I couldn't _comprehend._ Isabella… Izzy and me. How could I never have noticed? How could I have been that oblivious? _How?_

I found my way to Adyson's front porch, my hands automatically reaching out to steady myself on the rail. The sun was long set, and the night was cool, smelling of cut grass and of everything _home_. This was my element, and the familiar summer air calmed my mind.

I decided that shock wasn't such a bad emotional state, though, because as soon as I was calmer, I had time to think. Time to think brought up questions, but more than anything, it let me dwell on how I felt about my most recent revelation.

And it was too much.

I was overwhelmed, because I'd never experienced this extent of surprise before. I was angry, because I was apparently the last person in all of Danville to know something this freaking relevant to my life. I was embarrassed, because now I saw myself as they must have seen me hundreds of times—completely clueless. I was ashamed, because of how many times I must have been a jerk to her, not realizing… just _not realizing._

I was frustrated, confused, astonished… I was so many things.

But most of all, I was disappointed, because… because had I realized this before, I knew everything would have been different.

I would have pummeled all those boys that asked her out.

I would have told her how beautiful she looked at every dance I'd failed to ask her to.

I would have smiled and agreed with so many of our friends' teasing comments about the two of us instead of brushing them off.

And tonight, during that silly game, I would have kissed her. I would have swallowed whatever nervousness held me back and actually kissed her.

* * *

><p><em>RR please! Reviews are wonderful, wonderful things!_

_Well, things finally clicked for Phineas. Which means everything's going to go down! Next chapter is absolutely heartbreaking and wonderful and… the pinnacle of drama in this piece thus far, I feel. Poor Phineas. Poor Izzy. Poor Ferb. Oh, it's going to be good..._

_That being said… I have some bad news. Currently, I'm typing this A/N from the hospital (not for myself, but for my little sister) while the little darling sleeps. I am thus not sure when a new chapter will come. It shall not be too long, as I have it typed up and everything, but I need to handle my sweetheart first. For sure less than a week. Who knows, it may only be a couple days. I don't know! Just know, if I'm gone for four days, I'm not quitting the story or anything. I'm just handling the family crisis._

_I posted in light of all of this just because the cliff-hanger last time was so drastic, but this one is cushioning enough to hold you over in case I'm stuck in the hospital for a few more days._

_Oop! My baby is crying now! Gotta go coddle. Lilly-Belle is out, peace!_


	31. Fall Apart

_Hey, guys! Thanks for the supportive words regarding my sister. We have a few answers, and thank goodness it's nothing life-threatening! My baby should be alright within the month, so here's an update. __Sadly, this upcoming week might be a little slow in updates still, because she's requiring a lot of extra attention. Thanks for understanding!_

__I've reread this whole piece recently, and saw that when I write super dramatic parts like I have recently, my writing is exponentially better XD It was so curious to see!__

_Glad you guys liked Phineas' realization. Hope you enjoy this chapter! Enjoy!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Phineas and Ferb._

* * *

><p>CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE:<p>

Fall Apart

**ISABELLA**

My skin was on fire, but my mind was liquescent. It was an amazing feeling, like the nerves all over my body were on hyper alert, drawing from my brain to compensate, and leaving me with this tingling numbness in my head that could only approve, only want more.

This was more extreme than what had happened on Ferb's bed last week, driven further by this overbearing knowledge of a time limit, this consuming sense of urgency.

That considered, maybe we should have held back a little bit. We most definitely shouldn't have let it go as far as it did, but when Ferb's hands began roaming up my legs every bone in my body screamed that I wanted that touch.

I realized he was intending to lift my legs up to wrap around his waist, and my stomach grew heavy with a giddy craving; I loved the feel of him. I was excited to know what it felt like to have him completely holding me. I wanted to know.

But then our moment was torn apart—too much light, a gasp that was not from either of us. Someone had opened the door.

"_Holy—_!"

Ferb and I broke apart like someone had pulled a fire alarm.

"Ginger!" I squealed, staring at the blushing face of my best girlfriend. If _she_ was that red, I didn't want to know the color of _my_ face right now.

"I-I knocked!" she spluttered quickly. "I swear I knocked!"

_Had she? _I looked to Ferb, who—much to my annoyance—didn't look nearly half as embarrassed as I thought he should. The Brit shrugged his shoulders at me; neither of us had heard any knocking, but then again we had been a little… distracted_._

"Yeah," I replied, trying not to cringe at the catch in my voice. "We just… we didn't hear you."

Ginger's stunned brown eyes flashed from Ferb to me, and she smiled. It was slow and unnervingly sly, and I decided I _really _didn't want to know what she was thinking right now. Her words from a few days ago—_I ship it_—played in my head, and I resisted the urge to go hide in the corner.

"Sorry I had to interrupt," she sang. "You looked like you were really… _enjoying_ yourselves." I held back my groan. This was _so_ embarrassing. "But your time is up. Past up; you were in there for around eleven minutes."

"What?"

"Good thing I was the one to volunteer to come get you, because after what _I_ just saw, the others would be far crueler. But you have to listen to me."

My best friend tugged me from the closet and—to my utmost mortification—quickly started pulling my displaced clothes back over my skin. When I was completely covered again, she moved to my tousled hair, fixing it with a rapid-fire movement of her fingers.

Meanwhile, she gave a dizzyingly swift explanation of this theory Buford and Baljeet came up with. Everyone else thought I'd concocted some sort of plan with Ferb to make Phineas jealous? They thought Ferb was being some super wingman and helping set me up with his little brother?

That… totally made sense. It absolutely made sense. I couldn't believe it didn't occur to me that they'd jump to that conclusion. But that didn't make it true.

"Now _I _know what's going on here," she motioned between Ferb and I, "but everyone else thinks this is some plan you cooked up."

"Not that I'm complaining, but why were we in here so long?" Ferb asked, leaning against the closet's doorframe. "Did something happen?"

Ginger ceased her motions through my hair, staring at him like he'd just dropped from another planet. Her mouth was hanging open like a fish. I nudged her.

"Uh… Sorry, I—I'm just not used to hearing you talk." She finished fixing my previously make-out affected appearance, standing back to ensure I looked fine. "And we forgot you two for a few minutes because there was a bit of… an incident. But we have to get you back out there before everyone gets suspicious."

Ginger's rushed actions to erase Ferb and I's activities from my person suddenly made sense; she'd been giving me an out, a way to control how much everyone else knew just yet. She was trying to ensure that they wouldn't know that Ferb and I had been… well, that their theory was wrong.

"An incident?" I asked, as she ushered me out the bedroom door. I stared at everyone else now, each of their faces either clearly shocked or completely blank from shock. "What kind of incident? What happened?"

Everyone was silent, and Adyson prodded Baljeet, volunteering him to answer. He stepped forward nervously.

"Well… Phineas…" he began, and those two word wrenched my gut. _Phineas? _What about Phineas? "He… he may have… stormed out after you two left."

Blank. My mind was blank. I needed more.

"Your little plan worked," Buford jumped in. "Dinner Bell totally got jealous when Ferb picked you and realized everything." He moved over to Ferb and held his hand out. Ferb eyed they bully's closed fist hesitantly before moving to return the _bro_ gesture. "And _that_ is why I said you were the best wingman ever earlier."

Could Phineas really have stormed out of here? That just didn't seem possible. I'd buy into the idea that he may not want Ferb and I together, because it might make him uncomfortable if his best friend and brother started dating or something, but jealousy? It couldn't be.

That would mean that to some extent Phineas reciprocated those feelings I'd always had for him, which was something he'd had ample opportunity to do for years. And he'd never gotten jealous when other boys showed interest in me. Granted, I never showed them an ounce of attention back, fawning over Phineas and Phineas alone, but still…

I had to know what was going on. Because jealously just couldn't be it. Phineas didn't like me like that.

"Guys, where's Phineas now?"

"We are not completely sure, but we think he just stepped outside." Baljeet replied. "He said he just needed a minute, but I think it would be a good idea for you to talk to him."

I nodded and made my way to the stairs. As absolutely, gut-wrenchingly terrifying as it was, Baljeet was right. I had to find Phineas, and we had to talk about this. I could swallow down the pain and embarrassment of his rejection with strength. I could hold everything in and then sob my way to acceptance when I was alone.

"Go get 'im!" Adyson called with a giggle.

As I rounded the corner, I got one last look at my friends. They were all anxious, but I could see they were excited. Apparently they had some sense of optimism about what was about to happen that I did not.

I couldn't look at Ferb.

Once upstairs, I didn't have to search very hard to find Phineas; he was standing on the front porch, leaning on its wooden rail. His back was turned to me, and he was looking up at the stars. My legs stopped working, and I couldn't make it any farther than a foot out the door. Should I announce my presence? I hadn't actually thought through what I was going to say… That would have been helpful.

"Hey," he said. He didn't turn around, didn't move at all, but I had no doubt he knew it was me.

"Hi," I replied lamely, but his three letters gave me the courage to take three steps to the rail. He was two feet away, but I imagined the distance was far greater, far more significant. Thinking of it that way might soften the blow.

That was the extent of our conversation for a few minutes, both of us trying to collect our thoughts, trying to find what to say. I failed miserably. So, so miserably.

He, evidently, did not.

"You know, after the two of you left, Irving said something about how you and Ferb talked a lot. He said that you always went to him when you were sad, and that he'd cheer you up."

Irving said that? Did I even want to know how Irving knew that? Probably not…

"At first that upset me," he continued. "I was a little shell-shocked. I couldn't believe you wouldn't come to me when you were sad. I swear, I would have done absolutely anything—" he sighed, redirecting his words. "It… It bothered me that you'd go to Ferb instead, but I guess I get it now. How could you come to me when you were sad when _I_ was the reason you felt that way?"

"Phineas—"

"No, please, let me finish." My favorite redhead still hadn't looked at me, his eyes fixed on the sky above. I couldn't blame him, really; it was perfect tonight—completely clear and speckled with stars. It was easier to look at than each other.

"I'm so sorry, Isabella," he breathed, and I squeezed my eyes closed, hoping such an action would ward off any pain. _Here it comes._ "I'm so sorry I ever hurt you. I'm sorry I was the world's biggest jerk."

Not what I was expecting when he started with "I'm sorry;" I was waiting for the whole string of gentle _buts_ that let me down easy. Although… those could still be coming.

"I swear I never ignored you or how you… felt on purpose. I never meant to hurt you. I never even realized I did. It never occurred to me that you… that you felt that way about me."

That piqued my interest, and I couldn't help but ask, "why?"

"Huh?"

"Why do you think you never realized…you know…" I gulped, "how I felt about you?"

Talking about this so openly, after years of keeping it hushed and hidden, was unnatural to say the least—and yet… a little bit alleviating too. I released some of my pent-up Phineas Frustration with each word, letting the air out of a balloon that had been waiting years to pop.

In my periphery vision, I could see Phineas finally look at me, but I was too scared to return his gaze. I didn't want to see what was in his eyes. I didn't want to see the person I've been nearly my entire life unravel.

"Would you look at me?"

I cursed myself for being a stupidly emotional girl. Just that one question, and I had to shift all of my attention to holding in a few tears threatening to topple over the ridges of my eyes. I commanded them back and swallowed hard, internally growling that I _would not_ cry. Not when he hadn't even given me a reason to yet.

I shook my head, feeling incredibly guilty for denying his request, but the sky was so comforting. It was so steady, so sheltering from the turmoil of Phineas' rejection. Bottom line: I couldn't bring myself to look at him. I just couldn't.

"Okay then," he exhaled, and I could imagine him running a hand through his hair. "I suppose I can't blame you for that." He paused, deliberating. "But I don't know how to answer you. I was always told how bad I was with this sort of stuff. Berated with it, really. From Candace, from Buford, the rest of our friends, teasingly from Mom. Even Ferb would make comments about it now and then.

"And I guess… they kind of stuck. Phineas Flynn was bad with romance. It was fine; I accepted it. I never really saw why a girl would have an interest, and was happy with inventing anyway. I was always able to seize the day no matter what, and… and it just never occurred to me."

We fell into silence again, my head swimming with his words. Oh, Phineas… I'd always been so frustrated with him for never realizing how I felt, but how could I possibly be mad at him now? Now that I knew it resulted from this insecurity that everyone else was so oblivious to.

Wow, that was a funny thought.

Phineas was always scrutinized for being oblivious, but everyone else was oblivious to what could have caused it. Everyone had been caught up in the confident perfection that was the younger Flynn-Fletcher boy, that they—_we_—couldn't see that maybe he was _human_. That maybe he could have self-doubt just like the rest of us.

"What I need to know is whether it's all true," he spoke into the quiet. "I mean, I know, but… I need to hear it from you."

I heard him turn toward me, and I closed my eyes. There was nothing more difficult than this. There was a reason I had kept this secret for years! I wasn't the type of person to talk about my feelings like this. Not to him.

"And I want you to look at me," he said after a moment. "Please, Izzy, look at me."

My feet felt like they were stuck in a swamp, but I languidly turned, keeping my eyes shut. One moment of calming, of collecting, and they opened.

_Breathe._

"Yes, Phineas." Damn, I wished my voice could've been steady. "Yes, I've always liked you." His eyes were begging for more information, for total disclosure, and I figured anything else would be pathetic at this point. "I've liked you… pretty much since I met you, but I could never tell you. I just… couldn't."

_Breathe,_ I demanded again, feeling my insides at war to keep the nervousness at bay.

"So I kept it secret for years, which I guess was stupid. I was always so frustrated with you. Always so mad. I didn't tell you because I wanted you to realize on your own. I wanted you to realize because you wanted to. Because you wanted _this._ And that's just not fair to you, especially not now… now that I understand."

I stared into his eyes intently, trying to convey just how important my next words were.

"So I'm sorry about any confusion or awkwardness or anything. I just—I just hope that this won't damage what we have. Please, please don't let it mess up our friendship. I would hate myself, absolutely _hate _myself if I lost you over this. You mean too much to me for things to get messed up because I—"

Phineas leaned forward and pressed his lips to mine.

Wait—_Phineas leaned forward and pressed his lips to mine?!_

Only a second passed—a single, short-lived second—before Phineas pulled back, but it only took that instant for my mind to become chaos itself.

_Phineas just kissed me. Phineas just kissed me. What the hell? Phineas just kissed me._

"Sorry," he breathed, seeming just as startled by his action as I was. He was standing upright again, still a couple feet away, and he was staring at my lips with what was possibly the most curious face I'd ever seen. "Sorry… I don't… really know…"

His gaze drew up to my eyes, and I didn't know what he saw there. I felt like the proverbial deer, staring unblinkingly into the headlights that could be _so_ dangerous. I felt like my cheeks grew an apple each and were hot enough to melt the icecaps. _Phineas just kissed me. _What would I look like after something like that?

Whatever my expression, it was enough to draw him in, closing that last step between us that he hadn't before.

"Just so you know, I… I don't know what's come over me." His eyes fell to my lips again—and I felt faint when I realized that his hands were now on my waist.

_Oh god, what was happening?_

"And I don't…" he exhaled. He was so close. He was _so close. _"I have no clue what I'm thinking right now. Not a clue. But… Izzy, I want… to find out."

And he was kissing me again.

Phineas and I were standing on a porch. He was very close to me. His hands were on my waist. His mouth was against mine. I had to tell myself these things again just to make sure this was real. That this was happening right now.

His lips were extraordinarily warm, and the pressure of them against mine was so different… so unexpected. They were soft, tentative and a little uncertain, but lingering all the same.

I realized my hands had somehow come to rest on his upper arms, and I couldn't remember when I'd closed my eyes… Oh god, I was kissing him back.

And… and… if he kissed me, and I was kissing him back… then that meant this _was_ real. It meant _something_ was happening right now. It meant I was a terrible, terrible person. It meant I was the worst best friend, the worst—just _the worst._

But my brain was too frazzled, too burned out and confused, too selfish—and I continued. I was a swirl of contradiction much, much too strong, so I lost myself in the warmth.

I… I was kissing Phineas. My mind wasn't made of sense anymore.

Unlike his quickness to kiss me, he was slow to pull back. My eyes were open before his were, and I watched patiently, waiting for him to return from wherever he'd just gone. I counted all the way to six.

"Whoa," he breathed, and I finally met blue.

Bright, bright blue.

Bright blue that was just… brighter than I expected.

_Not_ dark blue.

_Oh god. _

_Oh, Ferb. Oh god, Ferb._

"Look, I need… I need to think about this," Phineas said, plucking the thoughts straight from my head. "I'm going to go home for the night."

I could only nod; it was all my brain would allow.

"You and Ferb stay as long as you want; I don't mind walking."

Another nod. Phineas started shuffling backwards, toward the path that led to the street, but he seemed unwilling to turn his back on me.

"I'm not trying to run away or anything," he assured, and I wondered when he'd gained the ability to read my mind. "I just need some time to process… this—it's just crazy."

"Crazy?" I whispered. That… sounded about right. Crazy_. _"Oh…"

I don't know what he saw on my face, but he quickly spewed, "not a bad crazy, I promise." He rocked back and forth on his feet. His cheeks burned and he looked away from me timidly. "Crazy in a… in a, _why the heck do I really want to kiss you?_ kind of way. I don't—I don't know how to handle this, Isabella. I just need a little time to think."

"Okay."

With that appallingly anticlimactic response to his words, he turned and—hands in his pocket and shoulders set in that contemplative way of his—he walked down the path to the street. Nine seconds and one glance back later, and he was swallowed up by distance and darkness.

What was happening? What was _happening?_

This… everything had suddenly gone _crazy. _Life was captured with that word, that single, simple word.

And what he said… oh, what he said…

_Why the heck do I really want to kiss you?_

The answer to that seemed fairly obvious. It's one thing to lean forward and peck someone on the lips experimentally. It's another matter altogether to then step in, take them, and kiss them more thoroughly, more meaningfully—with romantic intent. I just… I just… I didn't know what to do with that. Things were too complicated now. Far, _far_ too complicated. Ferb was going to be crushed.

Oh. Ferb was going to be crushed. _Ferb was going to be crushed._

_No, no, no, no, please no._ But no matter what I did… pain. I couldn't control that inevitable fact. I couldn't control—couldn't control…

Crushing panic crept up on me, and I could feel my breakdown from earlier slipping back in. I could feel the anxiety lapping against my skull and fear running its fingers through my hair.

But nothing was worse than the guilt. Guilt for kissing Ferb when I liked Phineas. Guilt for kissing Phineas when I liked Ferb. Guilt for… for surrendering to it. Guilt, guilt, and more guilt—I was a terrible person. A terrible person!

I needed to fix this. I _had_ to fix this, but I didn't know how. Fixing wasn't my forte! That… that was always Ferb's job.

Ferb was the fixer.

It was always my job to break. To break or be broken.

But… I couldn't afford to do that this time. Not yet, at least. No doubt the Troop had been spying on me. They probably knew Phineas kissed me. Which meant Ferb probably knew Phineas kissed me. The worst thing I could do was freak out right now.

I drew up my strength reserves, my determination, my will—and steeled myself. It took every ounce of resolve I had, but I would do this. I would go down into that room with the best damn poker face in history. If not for me, then for Ferb.

Because he deserved so much more from a best friend. Because he deserved a serious, private conversation about this instead of some public meltdown. Because if I did get into this here, I would become a wreck on the floor, and only burden him further. He deserved better, so much better.

So I would hold this in. I would hold my head high. I… I would hold back the panic until he could hold me without scrutiny from unknowing eyes.

I would hold myself together for just a couple more hours.

And then I would fall apart.

* * *

><p><em>RR, please! Reviews are wonderful, wonderful things! Almost as wonderful as you are for even taking the time to read my story! ^.^_

_So… Phineas kissed Izzy. Let the turmoil begin!_

_And next chapter is all Ferb. Let the turmoil continue!_

_Because we've all __already __seen how Izzy can fall apart. And now both boys have a stake in this. _

_How will Ferb react?_

_No promises on another update soon, as I still have to deal with a few family things around here, but you guys are awesome and so understanding. Thanks!_

_Love, Lilly~Belle_


	32. To Fix This

_Hello, lovelies! Just a short note this time..._

_Us Ferbella lovers have to stick together, so I thought I'd share some cool stories I'd found. You know… spread the writing love, and all that. If you like Ferbella, check out Enula's _Expiration Date, _or, as I'm sure most of you already know, any of HigherSilver's _String Theory_. Woot woot! I like spreading the word for good stories :)_

_Onward with the feels! Enjoy!_

_Discaimer: I do not own Phineas and Ferb._

* * *

><p>CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO:<p>

To Fix This

**FERB**

Adyson, Katie and Holly flew down the steps, rejoining the group glomped together at the bottom of the basement stairs.

"He kissed her!" they squealed over each other.

_He kissed her?_

"He did! He actually kissed her!" The girls were bouncing about now.

"No way!" Gretchen grinned.

Everyone grinned. Phineas kissed Isabella. Everyone loved this news.

And how could they not? Because everyone thought the two of them belonged together. Because they thought they belonged together so much that it wasn't even possible that I could care for her, or her for me… No, it _must_ have all been to get Phineas and Isabella together. Finally. That was the only way my friends could see us.

_But maybe they're onto something. _That was a depressing thought—that no matter what I did, Phineas and Isabella belonged together. I tried to ignore it. There was something to Isabella and I. Both of us knew that, but… I still didn't know where this most recent development left us.

After the three girls had rushed upstairs to spy, I'd been bombarded with questions and praise for my "brilliant plan," to which I shrugged and nodded appropriately—dodging, but not denying.

No, denying the jealously theory was something I'd only do with Isabella standing next to me. I most certainly wouldn't set them straight right now, after what I just heard.

He kissed her.

"Details!" Milly gushed, tugging on Adyson's arm.

And thus, with a perfectly straight face, I listened to her thirty-second sum-up of what they'd seen through the upstairs window. The room was in a frenzy.

He kissed her… twice.

We all heard the door at the top of the basement stairs open and close. Isabella walked down. Much to my surprise, she immediately spoke.

"Knowing you girls, I think I'm safe to assume you were spying on us, right?"

Her voice was unexpectedly light, her face free from any conflict or embarrassment. I could tell she was internally less collected than her outer demeanor suggested, but that was only because I could read her so well. Her poker face was surprisingly convincing. I was almost proud of her.

The room burst with laughter, cheers, and inquiries for the story of what just happened, which Isabella took in the order in which they'd been received.

"Yes, Phineas kissed me. No, we're not dating. He left to walk home. No, I don't know if he's going to ask me out. And, Buford… I won't even dignify that with an answer."

She gave an odd smile to the group before crossing over to the food table and poking about.

"So what does this all mean?" Adyson asked, and Isabella shrugged dismissively.

"I don't know. He said he needed time to process everything, and left."

Her voice was so cheery, and I really didn't like it. I didn't like her masking her emotions like this. It was… just so strange for Isabella. Isabella, who always wore her heart on her sleeves. Who was an open book. Now her emotions retreated to her eyes alone, and she refused to look at me. She refused to let me read them.

I couldn't quite tell what she was thinking, where she was at right now… no, I _definitely_ didn't like this.

"So what are we going to do the rest of the night?" Isabella asked casually, scooping up a few vegetables.

"You really don't think we'd let this go that easily?" Adyson asked, bounding up to Isabella and slinging an arm around her shoulders. "We want details! We've been waiting _for years_ for this! You gotta' tell us a little!"

_No,_ I wanted to say, _she did not._ I did _not_ want to hear how Phineas discovered he fancied her.

Isabella finally met my eyes, just briefly, and I what I saw there filled me with overwhelming melancholy. She was fighting to maintain this façade. She was really struggling right now. She was barely holding herself together. She was a breathing contradiction. She needed a hug. She wanted to cry on my bed—all of this in one glance.

I was relieved when she looked away. That had been too much.

"I have no clue what exactly is going on between us, or what he's thinking. Once I figure that out, you'll know."

Our friends didn't look pleased with the answer, but thankfully they were nice enough to let it go. Although they didn't know the extent to which she was upset, I figured they could at least gage her peculiar pensiveness.

The party slowly continued. Everyone drifted between rounds of card and board games and a makeshift table for beer pong, which we played with soda. Usually I would rock this, but my heart wasn't in it. I kept missing the cups, and Isabella—my teammate—wasn't doing much better. Any other circumstances, and chucking ping-pong balls with Isabella would have been a blast, but too much had happened today. Way too much. We were tired.

As far as parties go, it wasn't the worst in the world, but I will admit I was pleased when it reached an appropriate hour to politely leave. I didn't even need to ask Isabella; the clock reached 12:30, and we had a silent agreement that it was time to go.

We said our goodbyes, but were mute on the way to the car. It was absolutely unbearable, because I could practically feel her guilt coming off of her in tangible waves. That wouldn't do.

I followed her around to the passenger side of the car, putting my hand out to stop her from reaching for the door handle. Her head shot up to me, and the look on her face wrenched my insides.

She looked so scared, like at any second she expected me to start interrogating or screaming at her. She looked like she thought she deserved it._  
><em>

I pulled her into a hug, ignoring the little voice in the back of my head that whispered, _these are limited_. Because I couldn't hold her if Phineas and she started… but I focused on her right now. She was trembling, and I could tell she'd needed this.

"Whatever you're thinking right now that has you looking at me that way… stop thinking it," I breathed into the top of her head, and she nodded against me. "Above anything, you know you can talk to me. Always talk to me, okay?"

"O-okay," she whispered, and I pulled back. I opened her door for her, and within a minute, we were pulling away from Adyson's house.

"How… how are you being so calm about this?" she asked after a span of silence.

_Calm?_ If not for the fact that she needed support more than anything right now…

"I won poker for a reason, love."

She seemed unsure of what to do with that. A few breaths, and she pulled her legs onto her seat, curling them up to her chest.

"I'm so confused," came her hoarse confession. "So, so confused. I… I can't stand this."

There was no helpful response to be made, so I waited for her to continue.

"I'm going to hurt people." She buried her face into her knees. "No matter what I do, I'm going to hurt people. I… I can't do that, Ferb. But… but I have to, don't I?"

She sounded so defeated, and I hated hearing it. This would kill her, this choice. This knowledge that she chose to hurt one of the two most important people of her life. I didn't want her to go through that pain, but she was right. It did seem unavoidable.

"I suppose… you do."

She was silent, and I couldn't tell if she'd started crying or not. We were halfway home, and I was brutally aware of our seconds slipping away. They'd never felt limited like this before. We were running out of time to talk.

"I… I kissed him back," she said, looking up again, but staring straight ahead. "It wouldn't feel right not having you know that. But… that doesn't mean… I—I don't know what that means. But I pulled back, and… god, everything is so messed up."

My hand tightened on the steering wheel, so much so my knuckles turned white. I hoped she didn't notice. _Be a good best friend. That's what she needs right now. Be a good best friend._

"So… what are you going to do?"

That was the most pressing question. If Phineas made such a shockingly bold move as to ask her out, what would Isabella do? Despite recent actions and realizations between the two of us, I did believe she still had feelings for my brother.

So why wouldn't she say yes? It would make Isabella happy. Apparently my brother realized it would make him happy too. She'd get what she'd wanted for years, and Phineas… well, everything would play out perfectly—just the ending for which everyone had waited. Phineas and Isabella.

"I… I don't know," she whispered. That was the end of her composure. Her poker face finally broke. "I don't know. I don't know what to do." The tears came now, leaking from her eyes and into her voice. "I'm-I'm such a _terrible_ person! T-terrible—just… just the _worst!_"

My heart broke with these words.

The only reason for her to be so upset… was me. She was on the brink of everything she'd ever wanted, but there was a problem there. There was uncertainty and massive amounts of guilt—and it revolved around me. I was the barrier.

I doubted she viewed me that way, but that was because she was too sweet, too caring and sensitive. She was too tenderhearted to do what she needed to do in this situation to get her happy ending… and she needed help.

We were almost home, but if Phineas was still awake, I couldn't risk him seeing us talking in the car. I pulled over in front of some random house, shifting the gear into park.

"F-Ferb?" she sniffled.

_She needed my help._

I turned toward her and took a deep breath, at once calming and steeling. Then I held out my arms, and she instantly fell into them. Our position was awkward, separated by an armrest and limited by the general structure of the car, but I don't think either of us cared.

She clung to my shirt, burying her face in it, and I ran my hand down the back of her hair. Her body shook with loud, shattered sobs that made me think back to earlier today, when she completely broke down. She was there. She was falling apart.

"I—I c-can't—I can't—"

"I know, love," I whispered, holding on to her as tightly as I could.

"I'm—I'm… used to you f-fixing things," she cried. "When I'm sad… w-when things were hard—you-you always fixed them. You always fixed… fixed _me. _B-but I can't—_you_ can't fix this for me."

_Oh god, just rip my heart out_. I wanted to fix this for her. I wanted to so desperately. I never—god, I wanted to be there to fix every one of her problems.

"I can't… I can't ask you to—to do that. You c-can't—You d-deserve _so_ much better than… than—and I hate myself. I-I _hate_ myself—"

She was beyond her breakdown earlier, hyperventilating against me. I could practically feel her heart aching from here.

She… she needed my help.

And as painful as it would be to help her, nothing could have been worse than _this. _Than seeing her hurting so much. Because… there _was_ something I could do about it.

I officially decided I'd gone insane. Something happened to my mind, because I was never a masochist. I was never obsequious. I was never one to knuckle under. But I loved her. I loved Isabella… so I sighed.

"I _can_ fix this, Bella."

That only made her sob harder, more hysterically, shaking her head against me.

"No," she wheezed. "No. _No _you—you c-can't. I—I fucked up." _Whoa. _"Th-this… this—is all _my_ fault. _I _fucked up. You can't—you can't—"

I pulled her impossibly closer, trying not to cringe at her words. Never in her life had Isabella dropped the F-bomb… this meant a whole new level of unstable for her. This was past her panic earlier today. This was destructive.

That was the last piece I needed to harden my resolve. I needed no more convincing. I would make this okay for her.

I took a deep breath. "Yes I can."

She jerked her head back and forth, the movement sporadic and bizarre feeling against my chest. I realized my arms were the only things keeping her together, her bones undone by guilt and confusion and self-loathing. She kept muttering no under her breath, and I wondered if she'd even heard me.

I couldn't see her like this, not ever.

_This is for her_, I repeated in my head over and over, hoping it might eventually sink in. _For her._

"I'm going to tell Phineas that Buford and Baljeet were right."Another deep breath. "I'm going to tell him that, and you are too."

"W-what?!" She pulled her head back just enough to see me and… and… she was so close. Oh, she was _so_ close. I forced myself to draw back, my hands moving to her shoulders.

"Just as I said. I'll tell Phineas that Buford and Baljeet's theory was correct."

"But—but, _why?_"

_Because I want to make you happy. Because I want Phineas to be happy too. Because I suppose this was the inevitable ending to this story, ever since you first stepped into our backyard and laid eyes on my younger brother. Because I knew this all along—Phineas and Isabella, Isabella and Phineas—but fought against it. Because pursuing this fight will kill you. Absolutely kill you._

But that's not what I said.

"Because it makes sense."

"N-nothing—nothing makes sense! Abs-absolutely nothing!" She wailed, trying to fall against me again, but I held her at arms' length.

"I know you, Isabella. I know this is the kind of problem that you will internalize and blame yourself over. You'll let it eat away at you until you completely shut down, and I won't let that happen.

"You're a great leader, an amazing person, but you've never been able to handle situations like this. You've never been able to hurt a fly. Something like this… I know how you'll handle it. I know what it'll do to you, and… and I won't watch that."

She stared up at me, her eyes wet and her nose so red she looked like a cute, pitiful Rudolph.

"It's not perfect, but it's an answer. I can help you. I can fix this, and then I don't have to see you looking at me like… like _this_." I took her chin in my hand. "So lost and hurt. Telling… telling Phineas that would solve everything. You'd be happy."

I could see the effect my words had on her. She wanted what I offered—to make everything okay. She was too stressed, too confused, too anguished, and she was desperate for some peace of mind. I was giving that to her on a silver platter.

Although, I could also see that she didn't like this. Her eyes asked one clear question; _but what about you?_

I smiled as reassuringly as possible, hoping the expression was more soothing than sad.

"I'll help you."

"B-but—but..." Her voice faded into a whisper, and she lost her words. She lost every rational part of herself the moment Phineas… kissed her. Damn, I couldn't get used to that thought. But she was almost there. She was so close getting what she'd wanted for so many years. I wouldn't be a barrier to that.

"Just… just let me help you."

I saw the last bit of fight leave her, flittering away like loose papers in the wind. There was nothing left. With an incredible amount of hesitancy, she closed her eyes—and she nodded.

A new wave of tears drizzled down her cheeks, but she had nodded. Consent had been given.

Okay.

Well…

I would lie to Phineas, and… in the process probably get the two of them together.

…

God, what was I getting myself into?

Now the only thing I wanted was to remove my hands from Isabella's shoulders and let her fall into me again. I wanted to hold her. I wanted to feel her against me, and breath in her scent, and fix her like I did every time on my bed, but this time I couldn't.

To fix this, I couldn't do that. I couldn't hold her.

I had to let someone else.

"Take some deep breaths," I commanded, pressing her back in her seat. I followed my own advice, centering my mixed up thoughts before I turned the car back on. If I was ever going to be able to… to do this for her, I needed to get away from her for the night. I needed to get away from the sway of those gorgeous eyes.

The last forty second stretch to our houses was filled with Isabella's sniffles. I kept my eyes resolutely ahead all the way until I pulled over on her side of the street.

"Thanks," she whispered. "For… for driving me home."

I nodded, but didn't say anything. From the corner of my eye, I could see that she wanted me to. She was waiting for it. But what could I say now?

She seemed to realize I would be upholding my silence, and nodded too—a sign of understanding. She wouldn't press it. She ran her hands over her arms twice, blew out a puff of air, and turned to open her door, but she was shaking so much she was bumbling with the handle.

Aw, bloody hell…I got out of the car and went over to her side, pulling the door open and helping her out. I walked her up the path to her house, took her keys from her trembling hands, and unlocked the door.

"Make sure you lock it from inside," I muttered under my breath, but I didn't leave.

Isabella was suddenly pressed against me, hugging me, ready to collapse.

_Why did I have to be such a _damn_ gentleman?_ Life would be so much easier if it wasn't hardwired into my brain! If I could have just resisted the urge to walk the lady to her door. If I hadn't put myself this close to her yet again.

"I… I don't deserve you," she whimpered. "You're—you're too… too…"

I allowed myself to hold her for only ten seconds—any longer, and I wouldn't have had the ability to pull back. I prompted her in the door with a mumbled goodbye, the last thing I saw being Isabella's sad eyes, piercing mine. Piercing me.

I felt like a damn tragedy.

I left my car where it was, knowing Vivian wouldn't mind. Really, I just wanted to get inside.

I didn't waste a second after I unlocked the door. _Close it, lock it, toss keys and jacket to side, book it up stairs. _At this point, I had to look at things as a series of steps just to make it.

I opened my door, relishing the idea of stripping down to my boxers and collapsing on my bed. I wanted to sleep and put an end to this exceptionally long day. But this wasn't what happened.

The moment I stepped into my room, I froze. There was a solid three seconds of just staring, before I slowly closed the door behind me.

Phineas was sitting on my bed.

* * *

><p><em>RR please! Reviews are bombdigity!_

_Maybe Ferb should have waited for her to be in a more stable mental state before making that decision… but where would the fun be in that? Because Phineas was waiting for him._

_Ferb is my favorite POV to write. Followed by Candace. She'll be making a reappearance soon. Where is all of this going? I promise I know ^.^ I'll update so you do too, but the questionable health issues are still among us. Nothing too major, but it has been time-consuming._

_See you guys soon!_

_Lilly-Belle is out, peace!_


	33. Yes

_Hope your day is __wonderful. You look absolutely beautiful and/or handsome! Is that a new shirt? Have you been working out? If you were a status, I'd click like!_

_:) Enjoy!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Phineas and Ferb._

* * *

><p>CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE:<p>

Yes

**PHINEAS**

I watched my brother as he registered my presence, but I didn't waste any time. The moment Ferb closed his bedroom door, I blurted out the words that been pressing down on my shoulders since the moment I left the party.

"Please tell me I didn't just kiss your girlfriend."

"You didn't just kiss my girlfriend."

"Because Buford and Baljeet said—"

"They were right."

They were right.

_They were right._

Relief washed through me, wiping away the grimy guilt I'd mentally built up in my brain. Buford and Baljeet were right—which meant I had been wrong. Nothing was going on between Ferb and Isabella. It really had all been to make me jealous. Isabella liked me, and I'd kissed her.

I found it difficult to believe any of this was real. Just this morning, I was grabbing ice cream with Isabella. Isabella, my best friend since I was five years old. Then to find she'd concocted this plan with my _brother _to make _me _jealous. _Me! _

I still had so many questions; ones that only Ferb could answer.

"During the game of truth or dare, Baljeet asked you how many girls you thought you'd fallen for, and you said two. I remember Vanessa, but the second…"

Ferb didn't offer any words, any names, but he didn't have to.

"You were referring to Isabella, weren't you?"

He nodded.

"But it was all part of your plan. And her answer of two. It was just to get under my skin."

He nodded again.

"And the thing… the thing with the closet. That was to make me jealous too, right? I mean, you were probably just talking the whole time anyway. Right?"

Ferb sighed. "Yes, Phineas. Yes to anything else running through your head right now. I was helping Isabella. We were trying to make you jealous." He finally crossed the room, dropping down on the bed next to me. "And it worked."

Minutes passed. My mind was all over the place, and neither of us talked. Ferb seemed to be trying to gage my reaction to his words, while I was just trying to figure out what my reaction should be in the first place.

Surprisingly, Ferb was the one to break our span of silence.

"It did work, didn't it?"

I looked up from my lap, his question taking me by surprise. _Did it work?_

"I can't believe it, but… it actually did." I laughed, acknowledging the fact for the first time myself. "I… wow. I _was_ jealous. When I saw her fall asleep on you, when you were pretending to be Candace and Jeremy, so many times these past couple of months…"

My mind was still working to piece everything together, between the many should-have-been-obvious interactions with Isabella over the years, and the craziness of her and Ferb's plan. It was absolutely insane, but…

"Upon introspection and analysis, what I thought was just overall confusion was really jealousy. I guess your plan did work."

Ferb nodded like he expected this answer. Then he surprised me once again; he laughed.

"What?" I asked, staring at my brother. He was looking down at his hands, shaking his head.

"Sorry, Phineas. It's just… you _would_ discuss your realization of all of this with words like _introspection_ and _analysis._" He lied back on his bed, his eyes falling closed. "But… I guess the next issue is whether or not you realize what that means."

"Huh?"

"You… kissed her, Phineas," he breathed. "And she's liked you forever. So what are you going to do now?"

I gulped. Oh, that was a scary question. Scary because it brought up a whole flurry of unexpected emotions inside of me. Wonderful, terrifying feelings. I was about to answer, but apparently my brother wasn't finished.

"Because if you kissed her like… like you did, and didn't mean anything by it, you—god, Phineas that would crush her. And I swear, if you—"

"No!" I yelped, waving my hands in denial despite the fact that his eyes were shut. "No, that's not—that's not what happened. Jeese, Ferb, you know I'm not the type of guy to just kiss a girl for no reason! Heck, I'm not the type of guy to kiss any girl before tonight."

Ferb nodded in a placating way, running his hand down his face.

"I know, Phin. I just… I don't want to see her get hurt after waiting so long for… for you to come around."

I never realized what a great best friend and brother Ferb was. I mean, I _knew_, but not to this extent. I never recognized it, but he was always there for Isabella. Then he agreed to that crazy scheme to get the two of us together. Even now, he was equally supporting me and looking out for the girl across the way. Wow.

"So I reiterate," he continued, "what are you going to do now?"

I pulled my legs up to my chest, thinking about earlier, when Isabella and I were on the porch. She'd admitted to liking me, and my chest suddenly felt like a hummingbird's wings. Then she'd gotten upset, worried that she'd lose me, and the thought was so ridiculous that I'd suddenly leaned forward and kissed her.

That… definitely hadn't been part of the plan. Well, I didn't actually have a plan in the first place, but if I did, kissing Isabella would not have been part of it. But… it had felt good. So good that my whole mind clouded over. I wasn't entirely sure what I said or how I got there, but she was in my arms, and I had been unable to stop myself from kissing her again.

And it was a real kiss. Not the nervous peck from before, but a prolonged, returned, _real_ kiss. A kiss that, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't make logical sense of.

"I know this is going to sound crazy, Ferb. Absolutely crazy. But…" I took a deep breath. "I think I have feelings for Isabella. You know, as more than a friend."

I cringed, waiting for Ferb to make fun of me, or act surprised, or scoff or something at the preposterousness of my falling for my best friend. Instead, he remained stoic and expressionless—completely unmoved.

"You're… you're not surprised?" I stuttered, and he chuckled under his breath.

"No, Phineas. I'm not surprised." Then, after a few seconds, he added on, "Isabella is easy to love. Why would I be surprised that she's charmed you too?"

The last part of his statement struck a cord with me. _Too? _I'm bad with this kind of stuff, but I'm pretty sure anyone would find that odd.

"Charmed me too?"

"Yes… like all those other boys that asked her out at school."

The air was unexpectedly charged, but I tried to ignore it to the best of my abilities. I wanted to keep things moving—to press forward from the idea of other boys' attraction to Isabella—so I decided to ask another question that had been digging into my skull.

"Ferb, do you think… do you think I should… ask her out, or something?"

Ferb's hand, which had been tiredly rubbing at his eyes, froze. In an exhale of breath, he asked, "what?"

"Well, it's become evident that I like her. And she likes me. Doesn't that usually mean we… we start dating or something?"

His eyes finally opened, but only to stare directly at the ceiling. It occurred to me that my brother hadn't looked at me once during this entire conversation. Though, I suppose I couldn't blame him; it was probably awkward for him to listen to his brother and best friend as we worked through all this weirdness.

Really, it was probably as awkward as I felt not too long ago, when I thought the same thing in reverse about him and Isabella. At least Ferb didn't like Isabella the way I did. That had to make all of this a little easier for him. He didn't have to worry about being jealous like I was.

Ferb nodded.

"So… I should ask her out, then?" I clarified, the idea making me startlingly excited. I actually laughed at this strange, off-balance feeling. "I really should ask Isabella—_Isabella Garcia-Shapiro, _our best friend for years—out on a date?"

Ferb suddenly stood up, walking over to his closet. He stuck his hand out, pressing it to the door and leaning against it.

"Ferb?"

He took a deep breath before pulling his shirt over his head.

"I think she'd be happy with you." He opened his closet door and tossed the garment into his hamper.

It was my turn to nod, and a smile broke out across my face.

"I can't believe I'm thinking this right now. I _want_ to ask her out, and it's the most bizarre feeling." I stood up and bounded over to my brother, but when I stopped in front of him, he looked across at the window.

"So you're going to?" was all he said.

"Yes," I declared, slinging one arm around his shoulder in a half-hug. "I'm going to. Thanks for everything, bro. For being there for her, for listening to me, for going through all this craziness to get me to realize how I felt! It couldn't have been easy, and I wouldn't have discovered any of this without you."

Ferb shrugged and crossed over to his bed, falling down on it face-first.

"Happy I could help," he muttered through his pillow.

"Oh, sorry," I rubbed the back of my neck. "You must be tired. I guess… I'll see you tomorrow, then."

He lifted a hand in response, but otherwise didn't move. Well, after all he'd done for me, the last thing I wanted was to keep him up when he was clearly ready to end this discussion. I muttered a second goodnight, turning off the lights as I walked out the door.

When I made it back to my room, I fell on my bed and let myself—for what was maybe the twelfth time that night—drift back to the events on Adyson's porch.

The world had turned on its head today.

I'd kissed Isabella.

I was going to ask her on a date.

I was excited about that fact.

Happy, thrilled, pleasantly surprised.

Wow, I owed my brother a lot.

* * *

><p><strong>ISABELLA<strong>

The morning drudged forward with too much sunlight for my tired eyes. I wanted to go back to sleep, but found it slipping just beyond my grasp; as the early rays worked their way into my brain, so did everything that had happened.

Ferb and I in the closet, Phineas storming out, Phineas kissing me, Ferb driving me home, my total meltdown in the car. Ferb's plan to fix it.

Ferb was going to tell Phineas that Buford and Baljeet were right—that everything that had happened between the two of us this summer had been a ploy, part of a plan to make Phineas jealous. That nothing was going on between my green-haired best friend and I.

I needed to talk to him!

I jumped in the shower. When I was done, I threw on a random sundress from my closet and rushed to the bathroom. The mirror was still steamy, but I didn't mind. I absently pulled my hair up into a quick ponytail and was out the door in a grand total of twenty minutes.

I made a beeline for the to the Flynn-Fletcher's house, but stopped on the doorstep.

Um… maybe this wasn't such a good idea. I had no clue what I was going to even tell Ferb. That I didn't have feelings for Phineas? I wasn't sure if that was true. That I was grateful for him telling Phineas that we were trying to make him jealous? That I was excited by his efforts to get Phineas and I together? That wasn't true!

The self-loathing slithered back up my spine. What was that saying about the cake? That you couldn't have it and eat it too? This whole situation was the cake analogy on steroids, and far, far worse. It affected the two people I loved most in the world, and I had no clue what to do about it. I was a coward.

Yes, coward was a good word. It's how I got into this mess, not telling Phineas how I felt for years. Not telling Ferb that I wasn't sure if I wanted him to play off what happened between us as some plot. I was a coward even now, contemplating turning around and running away instead of walking in the door and facing the mess I'd made.

"Hey, Isabella," came a cheery voice, and I turned to see Candace coming up the path. "Forget your keys?"

_Well, there's no going back now._

"Yeah," I laughed airily, stepping aside as she reached for her key flop. She unlocked the door and motioned for me to go in. With no other option, I did.

"Have fun at the party last night?" she asked, hanging her jacket on the coatrack behind the door.

I nodded, only half paying attention to her. I tilted my head to the side, looking down the hall into an empty kitchen. Who was home? Was Phineas? What would I say to him after we kissed last night?

"Holy _shit_," Candace exclaimed, and I jumped.

"What?"

"_Looks_ like you had fun," she laughed, and her teasing tone made my very wary.

"What do you—"

"Isabella?" Ferb's voice from upstairs cut me off, and I looked to the top of the steps. Ferb rounded the corner. "I need to tell you—" He stopped when he saw his sister. A surprised look crossed his face, and he tilted his head to the side; _what are you doing here?_

"Hey, Ferb," Candace smiled, slipping off her shoes. "I haven't seen you guys in a while. Thought I'd stop by, spend the day with you. Is anybody else home?"

Ferb shook his head, and my stomach twisted nervously. Of course he was the only one here. _Of course. _But I kind of liked that idea.

"Where is everyone else?" I asked, working to keep my voice casual, and Ferb faltered; now that Candace was here, he'd fallen silent.

He pantomimed stirring a bowl.

"Aw crap," Candace groaned, "I completely forgot Mom had her cooking class. But what about Phineas? I thought he'd be here."

Ferb made a long series of gesticulations, and Candace rubbed her temples with two fingers.

"Charades, Ferb? Really? I can't understand every weird gesture you make. Could you please act like a normal, dweeby, _annoying_ little brother and just _tell me?_"

"He's saying that Phineas agreed to help your dad in the antique shop this morning, but that he should be back any time now," I translated effortlessly. Candace stared at me in surprise, but I was already heading up the stairs. "Can we talk?"

Ferb glanced back at his sister, but nodded. I looked at Candace too, realizing this must seem suspicious, but at this point I really didn't care. Candace waved her hand dismissively, muttering something about making lunch.

Once Ferb and I were in his bedroom, I closed the door.

"I already told Phineas."

Bombshell.

"You _told_ him? What did you tell him, exactly? When did you even have _time _to tell him?_"_

"Phineas was waiting on my bed last night when I—" Ferb's eyes suddenly grew wide, and his hand shot out to brush my ponytail over my shoulder. "Oh, god… Bella, did—did you see this?"

"What? See what?" I took a step back, my face flushing… oh wow, probably just as badly as Ferb was blushing right now. I did _not_ want to know what could make the stoic become _that_ rosy.

"Your… your neck," he spluttered, his hand moving to cover his mouth.

"My neck? What about my neck?" My hands flew up uncertainly, and I'm sure I must have looked like I was trying to strangle myself.

Ferb's hand didn't move, and he only shook his head. He was getting redder by the second, and I couldn't stand the suspense.

I scrambled to the mirror hanging on the back of his door. And my neck looked completely fine! What could possibly—

Oh. _Oh no. _My neck was _not_ completely fine.

On the left side, just below and farther back of my ear, was a red mark around the size of my thumb, maybe just smaller. It wasn't as bad as I knew it could have been, but with my hair up in a ponytail, it was _very_ noticeable.

When Ferb had pinned me, he'd… he'd given me a… But it hadn't even hurt! Far from it; every second of his lips on my neck was so... How could I not have noticed something like _this_ happening?

"Why the hell did you put your hair _up_?" Ferb crossed over to me in two strides and removed the scrunchy from my head, sending my hair sweeping down around my shoulders. "Damn, if anyone else saw…" he exhaled. "What were you thinking?"

"I—I didn't see it," I assured, taken aback by his sudden abrasiveness.

"_You didn't see it?_ How could you not have seen it when you were pulling your hair into the ponytail? When you were getting dressed? Seriously, Isabella," he sighed. His fingers ran through my hair, and I resisted the urge to let my eyes flutter closed; he was just trying to cover up the mark he'd made.

"I never looked in the mirror this morning," I admitted sheepishly. I finally met his eyes, and could feel the air charge between us. His hands dropped from my hair and he took a step back.

"You should take some of my mum's make up and try to cover that up before Phineas gets home."

"Because… you already told him," I murmured, my gaze unwavering from his.

Ferb nodded. Then, after an exaggerated exhale of breath, he told me what happened—how Phineas had been waiting on his bed last night, how he'd confirmed the crazy jealously theory, Phineas' realizations and excitement, and… and… his determination to ask me out.

Phineas wanted to ask me out. Phineas was _going_ to ask me out. How was I supposed to feel about that?

"But what about you?" were the only words I could muster.

"I won't get in the way of something you've always wanted. And you should have seen Phineas last night." Ferb turned around. "He was so thrilled. I can't—he really does fancy you, Isabella, and… I don't want some… some two-month fling to interfere with that."

_Two-month fling?_ Two-month fling… Those words stung in unexpected ways, but I tried to brush them off; I had bigger worries.

"Last time I checked, you putting yourself in the friend zone to pave the way for Phineas doesn't end so well." I crossed my arms. "If memory serves, last time you tried this, you kissed then freaked out on me. You suddenly think it'll work this time?"

"Yes, I do," he said so gravely it took my breath away.

"You do?"

"Because this time, it's… it's so definite. The two of you—well, this time I wouldn't be jumping in the middle of some unrequited thing, or minor flirting, or any sort. You two will be together, and that will be the end of that.

"There won't be any room for a slip up, Isabella, and therefore I won't."

"You won't," I repeated, nodding my head absently. _Because Ferb is perfect. So perfect. _I didn't deserve one ounce of him. Not a single hair on his head. "And I should go out with Phineas? I—I don't think—"

"I know you'd be lying if you said you didn't have any more feelings for him, so don't say it. Don't make this harder than it needs to be."

My mouth fell shut. Maybe… maybe he was right.

My kiss with Phineas… it wasn't as if I'd disliked it. Nothing like that. It was so warm and so _Phineas—_a little clumsy but very sweet. Sure, it didn't feel like it did when Ferb kissed me, but the problem was I was so inexperienced I didn't know what all of this meant!

Ferb made me all tingly, made me crave his touch in ways I never thought I would, but that all could just be… just be—awkward, awkward, _awkward_—sexual tension or something, right? I'd always loved Phineas, and if his kiss felt nice, then maybe we belonged together. Maybe this… uh, whatever it was with Ferb was just physical.

I could have misconstrued my feelings for Ferb for attraction. People did that, right?

Right?

_Sigh_… It wasn't very convincing.

That whole thought process felt tissue-thin and utterly ridiculous, but… there was still so much doubt there. How was I supposed to know if what I felt was love—for either boy! I was so confused.

So confused. _So _confused.

"Oh, no." Ferb's hands clamped down on my shoulders. "I know that look, love. You're spiraling. _Stop it._"

I looked up into his eyes, and he took a step back again, like it stung to be that close to me.

"Ferb—"

"See?" he cut me off. "This is why I did this. You can't handle a lose-lose choice, Isabella. You can't hurt people; you'll shut down, and I just—I can't stand by and watch it happen. Now Phineas… Phineas is going to ask you out. It's what you've always wanted, and if _he_ finds out anything else is—_was_ going on, he'd be crushed. So buck up."

I stared at him; I couldn't stand seeing just how hard this was for him, just how stubbornly he was trying to bow out so I'd be happy.

My voice broke when I asked, "So you… you really think I should say yes?"

I felt so guilty for asking, for making him answer when I knew this was already so difficult, but I had to hear him say it. If I was going to start dating Phineas after all of this… _craziness_, I had to hear him say it.

Ferb took a deep breath.

"Yes, Isabella. You should say yes."

"O-okay," I breathed, my mind reeling with so many thoughts—the most prominent of which being, _Phineas is going to ask you out… and you should say yes._ This was only rivaled by one other, ricocheting violently around my brain: _some_ _two-month fling._

That was what Ferb said: _some fling. _Was that what this was?

"Phineas will be here any minute. Go find some concealer or something under my mum's sink for your neck."

Ferb moved over to his window, his back to me, and when he didn't say anything else, I figured it'd be best if I did what he said.

So why were my feet moving _forward_? Whatever; I went with it. I was next to Ferb, leaning up on the tips of my toes, and it was only when I'd pressed my lips to his cheek that I'd found a few dismal and altogether _not-enough_ words to speak.

"You... I don't deserve you. I really—I—" My voice collapsed in on itself, and I knew I couldn't go any further. I could only manage a frail, "thank you," before I had to go.

I had to walk out that door right now, because this might have been the only time when I could muster the will to do it. My limbs followed Ferb's instructions even though my mind was mulch; I found some concealer under Linda's sink.

Covering the mark on my neck was astoundingly difficult—not the action itself, but in the symbolism that pressed down on my shoulders. It felt like Ferb had finally made some claim to me at the party, had declared me as his, but now we were covering it up. We were ignoring it. Pretending it didn't happen.

What if I liked the mark? What if my body craved for him to leave another? Why… why should I cover it up?

I reentered the hall to find Ferb was leaning against his doorframe, studying me.

"Ferb, I don't—"

He held his hand up to silence me, a sad smile creeping across his face.

"Phineas just pulled into the drive way. Just… just remember what I said, okay? Do what I told you to do, and you'll be fine. Please don't make this any harder than it needs to be."

_What?_ My mind was sent into a tailspin.

I heard the front door open, followed by Phineas' excited cry of, "Candace!"

I felt so numb; where was my blood? Could it be that cold, congealed thickness under my skin?

Ferb tilted his head toward the stairs, directing me onward. My feet followed his command, as if being tugged by a marionette's strings—as if this were something inevitable, the way it was always supposed to be.

_Maybe it was? _

I'd never known Ferb to be wrong before.

Phineas' face lit up when he saw me, and Ferb's words settled back into my mind. I heard his fluid voice run through my mind like a stream over pebbles…

_Yes, Isabella. You should say yes._

So I did.

* * *

><p><em>RR please! Reviews are love_.

Now, next chapter is one of my favorites. Maybe my fav I've written. ^.^ I really enjoyed it.

Before you all go condemning Isabella or something, remember (*soothing voice*) Ferbella will be okay. Next chapter provides a little more explanation for all that happened here, as we get a more detached POV that looks at things holistically. I think you guys will like it.

~Lilly-Belle


	34. Silent

_*Poke poke* Did my compliments from last time overwhelm your mind? I didn't her from a lot of you last chapter. 'Twas sad. But, as always, onward!_

_Candace's POV time! I love writing as her XD hope you guys enjoy it!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Phineas and Ferb._

* * *

><p>CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR:<p>

Silent

**CANDACE**

"Yeah, babe, you missed out on a great grilled cheese," I cooed into my phone, rinsing my plate in the sink. "Everyone else? Oh, most of them are out. Ferb's having a little chat with his girlfriend, but the others should be home soon."

As I expected, this brought questions from my fiancé, and I laughed.

"Well, let me restate; Ferb is having a little chat with his _secret_ girlfriend. No one knows they're together. You know, I'm not even sure if _they_ know that they're together, but you should see the way they act around each other."

I shifted my phone to my other ear, turning on my mom's sixteen-year-old coffee maker. It sputtered, clanged, and made a random beeping noise, but after a minute, warm, dark liquid started dripping into the pot.

"Yeah, that was the coffee pot. We should get Mom a new one for her birthday… Huh? Oh, I was talking about Isabella… yeah, Isabella Garcia-Shapiro. No joke."

I pinched my neck to the side, holding my phone with my shoulder while I dug around a cabinet for my favorite mug.

"Yeah, it is unexpected, but seriously, the way they look at each other… you should have seen them this morning, all shy and stuff. He was talking to her until he saw me, and _zip,_ he was silent." I grabbed hazelnut creamer from the fridge. "Yeah, it's cute, right? Like he'd deign to speak to _anyone_ but her. Ugh, where'd Mom put the sugar?"

My fiancé—eep! I could not call him that enough—reminded me that my mom recently ditched the giant sac of sugar for a quaint little jar shaped like a bird. The teasing tone in his voice wasn't needed, but when he was right, he was right; I grumbled out a thanks.

I swear, some days I would lose my head if not for him.

"Phineas? Oh no, he doesn't know… no… I don't know how he'd handle it. Back when I was first suspicious, I tried to bring it up, and let's just say it did _not_ go as planned. The goof totally took everything the wrong way. Go figure."

I spooned two shots of sugar into my mug and settled down in front of the coffee pot, watching it drip, one little brown bead at a time. This old device was the closest thing to a modern torture machine.

"Oh, no, I know he's kissed her… no, he didn't tell me, but trust me, _I know_." More snarky comments from Jeremy's end of the phone, and I rolled my eyes. "Hey, I'm an excellent judge of character! I've been suspicious for a while. Although, this morning pretty much confirmed it… Yeah… Let's just say someone left a little evidence on Isabella's neck after that party they went to last night."

Laughter exploded from the speaker, and I pulled my phone back. Jeremy had one of those loud, full, and engaging laughs—just one of the infinite reasons I loved him—but through the phone, it was always an earful.

"Yeah. My eyes nearly bulged out of my head when I saw it. Oh, hey, I think I just heard Phineas pull into the driveway, so I'll let you go. Good luck in that meeting!" The coffee maker beeped, and I freed the pot from its cubby. "I love you too, babe. See you tonight."

I hung up my phone and poured my cup of coffee. I'd just added the creamer, when I heard the front door open.

"Candace!"

Next thing I knew, I was being glomped with a hug.

"Hey, Phin!" I laughed, putting my cup down before it could be squeezed out of my hands. "I can't breathe!"

"Sorry," Phineas murmured, but he held on for a few seconds longer before pulling back.

"You're in a good mood."

"I'm always in a good mood."

I smiled. "True. What's up, bro?"

"A lot, actually. You'd never believe what happened yesterday." He blushed, and that little mischief radar in the back of my head started dinging. Was this about the party? Did Phineas find out about Ferb and Isabella? "Well, actually, you probably _would_ believe it, since apparently everyone else has known about it for years."

"Try me."

"Well…" Phineas smiled in an odd way I'd never seen before. It was almost… shy? I shook my head; Phineas was never shy. That couldn't be it. "At the party I—"

The stairs creaked, and we saw Isabella peak her head over the banister.

"It looks like you're going to find out the direct way," Phineas breathed, shaking his head amusedly. "Wish me luck, Candace!"

Wish… luck? What? But before I could clarify further, Phineas turned on his heel and made his way down the hall. I followed after him slowly, watching him approach Isabella, who was now waiting at the bottom of the stairs.

Now, in general, I wasn't the most observant person. I liked what was in my own world, and kept it to that as much as possible, but when it came to my brothers… it was a different story. There was a little switch in the back of my Busting Brain that turned itself on at the slightest hint of suspicious behavior.

It was blaring.

Phineas clasped his hands behind his back—a sign of nervousness, but expressed in a way he never had before. Isabella began messing with the folds of her skirt. They were so squeamish… something clearly happened between the two of them. Maybe at the party—

Oh. _Oh. Oh! _ Oh, ho ho, no way. NO WAY!

"Hey," Phineas greeted her, looking down at his feet. "I didn't know you were here."

"Hi." Isabella glanced up at me awkwardly, then back down to my little brother. "I, uh, I haven't been here long. I didn't know you were helping your dad earlier. We…"

"Need to talk, don't we?" Phineas finished her sentence, his words more statement than question, and Isabella nodded.

My mind was swarming right now. Isabella's hair was now down—a clear attempt to hide her neck. Phineas was fidgety in unexpected ways. Ferb was nowhere to be seen. Could what I think was happening really be happening right now? Was that even possible?

"How about lunch?" Phineas smiled.

Isabella blinked. "Lunch?"

"I just made a grilled cheese. I don't mind making a few more," I offered, refusing to believe the crazy theory my mind had created seconds before. My idea… it was too out there. It couldn't be possible.

Phineas looked back at me and gulped. I realized he was gathering courage—something that he never had to rally. It was always just… _there _for him. Courage at the end of each fingertip.

"Thanks, Candace, but I had something else in mind." He looked back to Isabella, and our neighbor stared at Phineas like she couldn't believe he'd uttered those words. "Izzy, I was thinking maybe we could… go grab lunch. You know, out someplace. We… we have a lot to talk about."

Okay… I knew this was not the place for big sister interference. I'm sure this would have been easier for Phineas had I stayed in the kitchen. It most certainly would be overstepping boundaries to make my presence here even more pronounced, but… gah, I simply couldn't hold back my outburst!

"Are you asking her out on a date?" I blurted out, and both Phineas and Isabella turned to me, their faces betraying something absolutely scandalized. So… that was a yes. "_Shit,_" I laughed, my gaze shifting between the two, "well… well, damn. I… I'm going to shut up now."

The two teenager's gazes slowly drifted from me back to each other, and Phineas rubbed the back of his neck.

"Um… just so you know, the answer to her question is yes." He took a deep breath. "I… I am." After that was said, Phineas stood a little taller, his confidence returning after the apparent loss of this burden; his intent was in the open now. "Do you want to go out to lunch with me?"

I wasn't quite sure what to expect from Isabella. Part of my brain wondered if she'd squeal and practically rip my little brother's arm off tugging him out the door. Another part wondered if she'd faint. Maybe she'd dreamily reply, _I do_, before giddily skipping around the house.

Another part of my brain wondered if she'd say no. If she'd tell Phineas that she had a boyfriend she'd been keeping secret. If she'd tell him that she was in love with his older brother.

I had no clue what the facts were anymore.

What really happened made me think that the recent idea that sprang up in my head was perhaps not as crazy as I initially thought; Isabella took one glance—one quick, subtle, and… forlorn (but I must have been imagining that, right?) glance—to the top of the stairs before looking back at Phineas.

One breath. One tentative smile.

"Yes."

In my periphery vision, I saw a shadow flicker against the upstairs wall—someone retreating from the top of the steps.

Phineas let out a sigh of relief, and some way or another, he and Isabella left; I wasn't paying much attention, since my mind was working overtime. My brain wove it all together, and my feet were already moving up the stairs.

It felt bizarre approaching my old room with the intent of hunting someone else down, but I didn't dwell. I knocked on the door, but before I could even call his name, I got a response.

"Go away, Candace!"

I was about to protest, when his words struck me. _His _words_. _I… I got a _response_. Ferb had talked to me. Ferb had yelled through the door.

Oh, something was wrong, so very, very wrong.

I opened the door and let myself in. To… an empty bedroom? Where the hell was he?

"Not what, _go away, Candace,_ means," came his grumbling voice, and if he hadn't spoken, I wouldn't have seen him. He… was he actually sitting in his English telephone booth? Ferb Fletcher… scrunched up on the plastic floor of the red box?

He was. He totally was.

I burst out laughing.

"Are you… _brooding_? What are you, ten?"

"Get out."

"Ferb, why are you hiding in your phone booth?"

"I'm not hiding."

"What's wrong?"

"_Nothing. _Leave."

I was about to fling back a retort, but caught myself. I reined in my giggles at the absurd sight. It was funny, but laughing at it was massively inappropriate right now.

"Ferb, clearly something's wrong. I mean, forget about the whole pouting-in-the-phone-booth thing… you're talking to me. Why are you talking to me?"

Ferb opened his mouth, but caught himself. He shrugged.

"There was something going on between you and Isabella, wasn't there?" I crossed over to his bed and sat down.

Ferb shook his head.

"Bull shit. What happened?"

He shook his head again, and I chastised myself for pointing out that he hadn't been silent. Now he seemed to be going out of his way to be as incommunicative as possible.

"Ferb, I'm not as gullible as Phineas. You can say shit like, _nothing's wrong,_ and, _no, I don't have feelings for Isabella,_ to our brother all you like, but don't insult me."

I could see it, just there—the pre-quiver of shoulder movement.

"Don't you dare shrug your damn shoulders!" I exploded, throwing his pillow across the room, even if only to watch it feebly bounce off the glass of the box's closed doors. Ferb sighed.

"Nothing is happening between Isabella and I. She's going out with Phineas. I'm sure anything to make you believe the opposite resulted from a plan we developed to make Phineas jealous. Now leave… please."

So… that was how it was going to be, huh? I kept plowing forward.

"I hope your composure was better than this when you fed Phineas that story, or he's more gullible than I thought. You realize how hollow that sounded, right? Majorly unconvincing."

"My composure was plenty fine when I told that to Phineas. That is my thing, isn't it? The quiet one, the stoic, the composed older brother—and they're going out. Mission accomplished."

He raised his fist in mock celebration, before pressing his knuckles against a glass plane.

"And I suppose that hickey on her neck was part of the mission? Because I'd sure as hell be willing to bet _Phineas_ didn't put it there."

Ferb's head shot up, his eyes scanning my face. His expression was completely smooth—_too_ calm, really—which made one thing very clear: _busted._

Haha! Nailed it! It's a busting feeding frenzy; stay out of the water!Successfully busting my bros… Woo! Busted! Busted! Busted! Oh yeah!

… Er, but, being the mature, non-busting non-teenager that I was, it didn't matter. _I digress._

"Was that part of this great plan of yours?"

He shook his head, his gaze falling to the tops of his knees.

"You know, I think of those kinds of things as more of love bites. Marking your territory. How the hell did it go from that to Phineas asking her to lunch? There's… a serious disconnect, bro. And when did you get _that close_ to Isabella without Phineas knowing and realizing that maybe asking out his brother's girl wasn't the best idea?"

Ferb's arms tightened around his legs, his eyes closing. "Phineas asking out his brother's girl? That's hilarious. I've been struggling with that notion, just in reverse. I've never had a claim on her. She's always been his."

I was hunting for a clever remark for this strange form of denial… before I had the jarring realization that he was no longer _denying_. He was speaking freely. He was openly showing his turmoil, he was… showing me some semblance of unconstrained thought and emotion—if only just a little peak.

Who was this boy in the phone booth? Because it could _not_ have been Ferb.

"Isabella isn't a doormat, and she's sassy when she wants to be; if she's always been _his_, then I guarantee you'd never make it as far as you did. Not to mention the whole thing I saw in the hall, her coming to you crying, falling asleep on you… twice."

"Oh great," Ferb laughed, though not with any humor. "You've been talking to Mum, have you?"

"Maybe," I chuckled, deciding we'd had enough of beating around the issue. I stood up, making my way to my brother's self-appointed prison. I opened the door and held my hand out. "Come on. No more moping. Come talk to me."

"You're… not going to take no for an answer, are you?" he droned.

"Nope," I confirmed, pressing my open palm even closer. He eyed it distastefully. "I can be stubborn as all hell, Ferb, so just save us both a headache and take my freaking hand."

He smiled, and though it was still etched with sorrow, it was at least genuine. He took it. I began to pull him up, but he sprang up on his own, so I shifted my goal to tugging him to his bed.

"What happened?"

His eyebrows furrowed, and he shot me a look that asked, _everything?_

I nodded.

This was the point when—according to all history records regarding my brother—Ferb wouldn't speak. He would retract into his own pensiveness and silent strength, and solve the world's problems on his own.

I slung my arm around his shoulder, gave it a squeeze, and hoped that he realized what I was trying to do; I was telling him that he didn't have to do that this time. That I didn't want that for him. That he had support. And I was telling him this in the way that he'd know best—without words.

"Thank you, Candace. That's sweet of you," he sighed. "But there's nothing to… there's nothing to…"

I side-hugged him a little tighter, letting my concern bleed through my expression.

And I could finally see it. I couldn't say he snapped, or changed, or turned a corner—those would have been too drastic. But he turned his head. He took a deep breath. He filled his lungs, but with more air than I'd ever seen Ferb take in before.

Because this was the lungful of someone who had something to say.

"There is, actually. There's a lot to… to talk about. So much has happened, and… I haven't talked to anyone but _her_ about it. Hell, we haven't really talked about it either."

I nodded, letting him know that I understood. That I'd be silent. I'd listen.

Just like that, the floodgates opened. Ferb told me everything that had happened these past two months. He told me every detail—every kiss, every ounce of flirting, every muddling interaction, every incident at the party, right down to Phineas kissing Isabella, and Ferb's decision to go along with the idea that nothing had ever happened between him and Isabella in the first place.

Countless minutes passed, and he was finally winding down. He ended with an airy, "so… what do you think?"

That was laughable; as if there was an answer that could encompass all that I was thinking right now. My mind… blown. Kablooey. So I did what I often did in situations like these. I resorted to humor.

"I think… it'd make a great story," I laughed. "Mind if I use something like this in one of my Fanfictions someday?"

Ferb snorted. "You and your Marvel fanfiction… Have you really not grown past that yet? I thought it was just a phase."

I smacked his arm. "There is nothing wrong with a grown woman enjoying Fanfiction, Ferb, thank you very much! But, man… you've really gotten yourself into a doozy, haven't you?"

"It… it doesn't matter now. Isabella has made her choice, and she and Phineas will be happy."

"She didn't make her choice," I scoffed.

"What do you mean?"

"Okay, now… let me premise this by saying mistakes were made everywhere. Isabella should have been more straightforward with Phineas from the beginning, and—"

"Says the girl who spent many a teenaged hours talking into a _banana_ because she was too scared to call Jeremy…"

"_My point_, smart ass, is everyone has a little blame here, so don't freak out when I say this… but I don't think Isabella chose Phineas. I think you kind of… coerced her into it."

"I—what? That's preposterous!" Ferb spluttered, his arm flying out wildly. "The last thing I want is to see her in the arms of another guy, but it was inevitable! It's what she wants, and I won't stand in her way!"

"Or this idea to go along with the jealousy theory was put in front of her at a time of high emotional distress, and she saw no other way through this without seriously jacking up her life," I countered.

Ferb simmered. "What do you mean?"

"You have to look at this from her perspective, Ferb. I think she's realized just how strongly she feels for you, then _bam!_ Phineas steps in with the realization that he likes her. She has two boys—both her best friends, both brothers—who like her and whom she liked at some point or another.

"No matter who she chooses—regardless of how cool the losing brother is to just stand aside—things will change. Building a relationship with one, the acknowledgement of the lack of that with the other: this isn't just a lose-lose, chance for pain thing for her, Ferb. This is something with the potential to be really destructive to a relationship she cherishes."

Ferb crossed his arms, determined to be huffy.

"Well she doesn't have to worry about that now, because she chose Phineas anyway. That's behind her."

"She didn't chose Phineas," I sighed. "You practically put Phineas right in front of her and tore yourself out of the picture. She chose not to choose."

Ferb grew still, his eyes swelling with my words. It looked like I'd just taken his ear and shoved an atom bomb into his brain.

"So… what? You're saying this is _my_ fault? That I _bullied_ Isabella into going with Phineas?"

"No!" I quickly assured. "No, I'm not saying that. And it's a two-way street; Isabella went with it. All I'm saying is that it seems like you automatically assumed she would pick Phineas and gave up before she could even blink.

"And I know you said it was to make her happy, but I think it's more than that." I took a deep breath, hoping he took my next words alright. "I think… I think you didn't wanted to cross Phineas."

Ferb's head jerked up at me. "What?"

"Ferb… I know you're used to… stepping back when it comes to Phineas. You let him do all the talking. You let him be the poster boy, and never say a word when people skip right over—"

"I don't _let_ that happen, Candace, it just does!"

"_You_ let it happen by not objecting. It's just like Isabella with Phineas right now; choosing not to choose. Did you ever tell her how you felt? I mean, actually, _explicitly_ let her know the extent of your feelings?"

I let that sink in. Ferb placed his hands in a contemplative steeple. I could tell he hadn't. He'd never told her, _in words_, how he felt about her.

"Well… what do you want me to do? Steal the girl from my little brother?"

"Maybe it's what you need to do."

He groaned and ran a hand through his hair.

"I couldn't do that, Candace. You know that's… that's not really in my nature."

"So it's too late, then?" I challenged, watching his face sour with distaste.

"I suppose that depends… on how this lunch goes."

I opened my mouth to spew an entire typhoon of protests against the amount of knuckling-under bull shit leaking from his lips, when Ferb continued.

"You have to understand; Isabella likes him." I prepared to speak again, but his voice rose to keep plowing on. "Even though she may like me, she's always had feelings for him. And now he likes her too. If things go well between the two of them, I won't say a word."

"Not a word?"

"I won't ruin that for them."

"You'll just hide away in your phone booth?" I scoffed.

"If need be," he replied without a hitch, and his melancholy gained a new level of infectiousness.

If need be.

I didn't think there was much else I could say at this point. I was frustrated, though. Wouldn't this all be so much simpler if Ferb could swallow back his brother-shadow issues and make a stand for her? If Isabella could grow a pair—er, so to speak—and tell Phineas the jealousy idea was actually a lie, and that she had feelings for his brother?

How could neither of them see the only thing keeping them apart was their own stubborn issues and a smidge of fear?

But I guess everything was easier said than done. They were in a tangled mess, and if both sides were willing to sweep what happened between them under a rug and go in a different direction, there was nothing I could do about it. They'd have to discover that for themselves, or sleep in the bed they made.

They were, after all, practically adults now. Adults that had rambunctious amounts of play and that hid in phone booths when upset… but adults nonetheless.

Sensing our conversation was coming to a close, Ferb put his hand on my shoulder, giving it a light squeeze of appreciation. I rolled my eyes, pulling him into a proper hug.

Then, because I knew he hated it, I shook my hand through his hair and gave him one of those big, embarrassing Sister Kisses on the temple.

He made a face, and I poked him in the side.

…Okay, so maybe we weren't adults _all_ the time, but with my brothers, that never really mattered.

On my way out the door, I was struck with the most peculiar thought, and I couldn't help but release an amused breath.

"What is it?" Ferb asked, and I shook my head.

"Nothing, really." I let out an airy laugh, one that picked my shoulders up in a hug before letting go. "It's just… I bet Phineas hasn't ever heard you talk that much, huh?"

Ferb rubbed the back of his neck. "No."

"There's nothing wrong with that," I promised, letting the big sister feels inside of me congeal into a smile. "I'm just… I'm honored, Ferb. Thanks for letting me in."

My little brother seemed surprised at this, two puffs of cotton candy appearing on his cheeks, but he nodded.

And call me crazy, but it didn't just feel like a nod from Ferb anymore. The incline of his chin, the set of his brow—I realized it all meant something. He seemed to be thanking me, to be saying he was happy he let me into his tight circle, even if only a little.

I let my smile say, _anytime, bro._

I'd always ragged on him for never talking, but I decided I would never get on his case about it again. After all, maybe there was something to be said for being silent.

I just hoped they'd find a way to make everything okay.

* * *

><p><em>RR please! Reviews are inspiration to keep moving along._

_What did you guys think about Candace's POV? I liked it because it allowed me to convey a few things that would be forced with the other character (since they're too involved to make the observations themselves). Plus, after everything that's been going on in my personal life, I had to write a chapter with Big Sis feels in it. It was a must._

_But it is a sticky mess. Both are to blame for how things are going. They like each other, but after this date with Phineas, is it too late? Well, this is Fanfiction, so probably not XD but you'll have to keep tuning in to find out how it all plays out! Same Bat time, same Bat channel!_

_Lilly-Belle is out, peace!_


	35. Inevitable

_Hello! Sorry about my absence! This past week was the week from hell. Just the worst! I literally wrote 0 pages (and I was going INSANE because of it)! But I promise it was because I was insanely busy, not because I was sad because you guys haven't been reviewing as much these past few chapters (*poke poke*)._

_Anyhoo, without further ado, enjoy!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Phineas and Ferb._

_If I did, there'd be a lot more shipping… but sadly it wouldn't be nearly half as good of a show it is now. Aw well… onward! :)_

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><p>CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE:<p>

Inevitable

**ISABELLA**

I didn't know quite how I was supposed to feel.

I felt like ever since I came back down those stairs last night at the party, Ferb had completely cut himself off from me. There was a distance there—a certain stoic attitude towards me that I wasn't used to when it came to Ferb. I felt like at the drop of a hat, he shut me out and pushed me to Phineas.

That's not to say I didn't still feel guilty.

_I_ walked down those stairs. _I_ said yes when Phineas asked me out. Not Ferb.

But part of me couldn't help but dwell on what he'd said to me… the part where he'd called whatever had happened between us some two-month fling. That seemed so hollow of a title for it. It sounded too fleeting, too noncommittal. Was it just a poor choice of words? A slip of a tongue? Or maybe Ferb and I had really just had some summer fling, and now that Phineas was interested, that was Ferb's way of telling me it was over.

I didn't know what to make of it.

Phineas made a joke in the story he was telling, and try as I might to be upset, I couldn't help but laugh.

"Did Buford ever find his shoe?" I asked, still giggling.

"Nope. That poor French guy probably still has it."

I snorted, twirling my straw through my drink. "Poor guy."

Phineas and I were having a good time; I couldn't deny that. There'd been an initial ten minutes of awkward, when we both—with reddened faces and flittering hands—talked about us. He asked me the same questions Ferb told me he'd been asked, and I gulped… before agreeing. Confirming. Sentencing.

Once he heard that, we delved down a tangent of Phineas amusedly exclaiming a whole spectrum of things like, "if you just told me!" and, "although I do suppose crazy schemes are more our forte, huh?"

My favorite redhead surprised me; just like that, the hard part was over. Phineas was never one to dwell on anything negative or awkward, so instead he'd smiled. He'd continued on, behaving just as he would any other day—laughing, and open, and wonderfully cheerful.

It was just what I needed, really. If he'd been all flirty or something—jeese, I didn't know what that would even look like for Phineas—I didn't know if I'd be able to handle it. But friendly, ray-of-sunshine Phineas eased my mind. It made me want to try to be as optimistic about this as possible.

"If you think that's funny, just imagine _where_ that French guy found that shoe," Phineas continued. "Talk about unpleasant."

I almost spewed lemonade. "Oh god, I don't even want to imagine…" I shuddered dramatically.

Someday, I'd have to thank our bully friend for all of his crazy antics; whenever in doubt, a good story at Buford's expense could always lift one's spirits. I had another funny thought.

"Maybe he was just cranky because the dude reminded him of that old French girlfriend of his."

In unison, we both grinned.

"Bear suit flashback?" He laughed.

"Bear suit flashback," I agreed, remembering the time when Buford had dressed in a fuzzy bear costume and let us Fireside Girls hunt him through the woods. It was so long ago, around seven years, but I didn't think any of us could forget Buford in that suit. It had been… disturbing. Hilarious. But disturbing.

"Well I'm happy you're enjoying yourself." He smiled down at his empty plate and I blinked at him.

"Of course I am." Like anyone could _not_ have a good time with Phineas Flynn. Although… I suppose that wasn't quite what he meant.

"You seemed surprised earlier."

"Well yeah," I scoffed. "Can you blame me? I never expected… _this._" I brandished my drink at him, waving it around in reference to the date in general. "Of course I was surprised."

"Yeah. I was surprised, too."

But he was the one to ask me… so that didn't quite make sense. "How so?"

"Well, I was referring to this in general," he gestured with his fork between the two of us. "I was up all night just checking to make sure—"

He blushed and looked down at the scraps left on his plate, like he'd revealed too much.

"Checking what?" I prompted, but he shook his head.

"It's embarrassing," he mumbled, which only made me even more curious.

"Well now I have to know! You can't just say that and expect me to let it go."

"Well… only if you promise you won't make fun of me."

"I learned long ago to never make such promises."

"Oh thanks," he scoffed, shaking his head. "You inspire so much confidence!"

"Please, Phineas, like you need any confidence from me. What were you checking?"

He looked up at the ceiling in exasperation before meeting my eyes. "I was up all night looking up my symptoms online. You know, on one of those doctor websites. Trying to make sense of this."

I blinked. "Symptoms?"

"You know…" he rubbed the back of his neck, "increased heart rate, fluctuations of breathing patterns, flippy stomachs, warm cheeks. I… didn't know how to handle it. I just wanted to make sure I wasn't dying, or something."

I stared at him. Was there even a response to that? Phineas didn't know how to handle liking a girl, and was up all night looking up the "symptoms" on WebMD…

"And what came of your search?" I asked, fighting hard to keep in my laughter. As it was, I couldn't help but smile.

"It wasn't very helpful. I kept getting redirected to dating websites or other really… _weird_ ones I thought my computer's filter would have taken care of…" His fingers drummed nervously on the tabletop, and I couldn't get over how innocent Phineas was.

I mean, I was massively inexperienced with this kind of stuff. This was my first real date, just like Phineas, and I was a goody-two-shoes, but his innocence went way beyond mine. It was adorable. Not… in the way I expected it to be, but adorable nonetheless.

"Uh huh. And what did you do from there?"

"Well, I'd at least ruled out the idea that I had some disease or something," he said, and the seriousness of this declaration tipped me over the edge; I couldn't hold in my laughter anymore. A volley of giggles tumbled from my mouth.

"I'm listening," I assured, taking deep breaths when I noticed his impish glare. "Keep—keep going."

"After striking the internet off my list of helpful resources, I wasn't sure what to do. Ferb seemed tired, and after keeping him up to talk about this, I didn't want to bother him again. So I talked to my dad about it this morning, when I was helping him at his work."

The second he said his brother's name I felt my insides jump. It was ridiculous; I felt like a dog that'd just seen a squirrel, my ears perking up and my focus honing in on that one thing. But I remembered where I was, what I was doing, and reminded myself that I was having a good time.

Besides, at least Phineas _wanted _to do something like this with me. Ferb seemed like he couldn't care less!

Well, maybe that was an exaggeration. I mean… he did care. He had to care. It had to be more than "some two-month fling." I'm… sure it was more than that, even if that was what Ferb called it.

At least, it was more than that to me. Maybe I read in to Ferb's actions too much? A summer fling right before senior year… that was pretty normal. And I was sad, and being around Ferb cheered me up. Ferb always cheered me up, so maybe this was a new way to do that. A very_ different_ way. Maybe two-month fling was a good word to describe it.

That would make all of this so much easier.

If it were true.

"Dad confirmed that nothing weird was going on, and that… that it sounded to him like I _liked _you. I asked him what I should do, and he suggested I give things a try. Then you just happened to be there when I got home, and, well… I guess the rest is history."

This would be so much easier if Phineas wasn't being a hundred different shades of sweet. If I wasn't having fun. If I didn't love hanging out with him so much. Why couldn't this be awkward? Why couldn't Phineas be oblivious and inattentive? Why couldn't this date be a total flop?

Ugh. Boys! Why were things so complicated?

Demonstrating his infinite ability to mentally bounce all over the place, Phineas then veered into the topic of later today's plans, detailing his blueprints for a new Platy-Playground he wanted to build to replace the rickety neighborhood one that was old years before we were born.

Somewhere in this new tangent, Phineas and I finished up at the sandwich shop and began our walk home.

"And along the back, there will be a panel like a platypus tail. It'll be orange, and the crisscross ridges will stick out, so kids can climb up!"

"They won't have to worry about getting splinters anymore from the current playground's icky wood. That's such a great idea!"

"Yeah, and I think the neighborhood will really benefit from it. Too many kids stay inside these days. A new playground is just what they need."

We fell into amiable silence, walking side by side. I was still bemused as to how exactly we got here, but Phineas seemed happy. That made each step feel just a little bit lighter. Then I was struck with a funny thought.

"You should give yourself more credit, Phin, and the others should, too."

"Huh?" He adopted a look so perplexed that I had to laugh.

"You're not as bad at this kind of stuff as you seem to think. I'm impressed."

He swung around a light pole, and was suddenly right in front of me.

"Really?" he smiled, and I couldn't help but mirror it.

"Well, yeah."

"So…" he smirked and brushed a strand of my hair behind my ear, "I'm not completely awkward when I do something like that?"

Because it was Phineas, I shouldn't have been surprised by such confidence—and yet, because it was _Phineas_, such confidence surprised me. My stunned mind scrambled for something to say. What it settled on was lame, but at least it was something.

"Not quite Casanova, but you're very sweet."

"Not quite Casanova, huh?" he chuckled, falling back into step beside me. "Darn. I knew I should have gone with my plan with the explosives."

"Plan with…" My feet froze. _Explosives?_ It took a few steps for Phineas to realize I'd stopped, and he glanced back at me. A sly grin played across his lips.

"Kidding, Isabella. No explosives, I promise."

I let out a puff of air, shaking my head at him. "Honestly, with you, Phin, I never know."

I noticed he was watching me, a few feet ahead. He deliberated for a moment, met my eyes—and held out his hand.

_Uh._

My brain jumped on my momentary lapse of focus. It tried to drag me back to reality, tried to remind me just how many reasons I had to feel guilty right now. I could feel them building on the edge of my subconscious, but I yelled for them to stop.

This was what I'd always wanted, right? Yes, this is what I'd always wanted.

I reached forward and took his hand.

Phineas smiled, and it was so enthusiastic, so infectious, that I was able to push all the negativity back. I'd keep my promise to myself; I'd try to make the most of this. I owed Phineas that much.

"So, you free to help with the playground?" he asked, glancing down at our now-clasped hands with a playfully contemplative face that only he could achieve.

"I should be."

"Awesome! You've always been the best of our group with painting."

"Yeah, well that's because I actually use a brush! Buford always tries to paint using Baljeet's head. And really, it's all in the details."

We eventually made it back to the Flynn-Fletcher house, arriving just after Linda had. Her car was parked in front of the house, and she was still gathering up grocery bags in her arms.

I became painfully aware of Phineas and I's intertwined fingers, and wondered if I should let go. I had no clue what impression I should be giving Linda, no clue what Phineas and I were, or where we were going. Much to my surprise, Phineas made no motion to drop my hand. He gave zero indication that he was shy about this, or that he didn't want people to know we'd just gone out on a date.

"Hi Mom!" he called.

Still digging around in her car, she responded, "Hey Phineas, hey Isabella!"

How had she known I was here?

Phineas appeared to be thinking the same thing; "how—"

"Between your father, your sister, and the handful of people that saw you earlier, I'd wager most of Danville knows you two went out by now."

She finally stood up, turning around and smiling at us. Her eyes immediately drifted to our hands, which I let go as I rushed forward and took one of the grocery bags from her arms.

"Thank you, dear."

Phineas mirrored my action, taking two bags himself, and we followed Linda inside. We wove our way to the kitchen, dropping the bags on the counter.

"Ferb's in the backyard," Linda commented casually—though it sounded anything but casual to my ears. I could only imagine what she was thinking right now, especially after she saw me fall asleep on her other son… yesterday?! Holy crap… was the ice cream shop, my breakdown, the party, everything… really yesterday? That idea overwhelmed me with a swell of vertigo.

"Awesome," Phineas turned toward me. "I'm going to go grab my blueprints from my room. You can head on out."

I nodded. And as scary as the prospect of a minute alone with Ferb was, it was better than a minute alone with Linda right now. I at least had a fair idea of what Ferb thought of me. I walked outside.

Ferb was sitting under the tree with a blueprint in front of him. It was an odd sight, seeing him sitting there alone. And it was odd that it was odd; if Phineas were sitting there alone, I'm sure no one would question it. But there was just something that told us that Ferb belonged in a pair: Phineas _and_ _Ferb_. Just Phineas was always fine. But never just Ferb.

I wished the others could see how remarkable he was on his own.

I wished _he_ could see it.

I approached.

"Hey, Ferb," I stammered, watching my toe dig into the grass. My hands fidgeted nervously behind my back. "What'cha doing?"

Without looking up from his blueprints or speaking a word, he tossed me his phone. I hadn't been expecting it and nearly fumbled the airborne technology, but I managed to secure it after an absurd juggling act.

"What…" I looked down at the screen. I couldn't understand what I saw. There was a picture of Phineas and I from behind, holding hands and walking down the sidewalk. I scrolled down a little to see it was from Irving, with the message, **XD X3 XD I won! XD X3 XD**.

"He—"

"Won," Ferb confirmed, his pencil still flittering across the paper. "Apparently there was a massive bet regarding when Phinabella would happen. Figures Irving would win; he knows a disturbing amount about our lives."

"You… you mean…" I couldn't believe my ears. Our friends had been _betting_ on when Phineas and I would get together? For some reason, the very idea of that made my insides twist, but not with excitement. "How—how big was this?"

Ferb was quiet for a little too long before he replied, "massive."

"Massive?"

"Probably half of Danville was in on it." _Oh… _"It's been going on for years." _Oh god…_

Linda had said most of Danville knew Phineas and I had gone out by now. And now this, this picture… who knows how many people had seen it by now. The Fireside girls, the rest of our friends… how many people now thought Phineas and I were dating? Did Ferb?

I don't think I'd ever felt so trapped as I did right now.

"But… but why?"

Ferb scoffed. For the first time since I'd entered the backyard, he met my eyes. "_Why?_ Silly girl…"

"Silly?"

"Well it is rather axiomatic." He pulled his legs up, resting his chin on his knees. "Everyone has been waiting for this nearly as long as you have. Everyone's been anticipating the _inevitable_ Phinabella_._"

I mustered the will to sit down next to him. Following his example, I pulled my knees to my chest. "Inevitable… Ferb, I'm not sure if I can go through with this. If I even want to…"

"Did you enjoy yourself?"

"Of course—"

"Were you happy today?"

"Well, yes…"

"Then you'd be stupid not to." His head shook with the most minuscule movement.

"Stupid not to what?" Phineas asked, walking out the backdoor with a rolled up blueprint in his hand.

What happened next took me completely by surprise; in a heave of boldness—terrifying, rash boldness—Ferb replied, "go out with you."

He looked back down at his drawing, and just like that, I felt a wall between us. Ferb created a distance between him and other people. It went along with his stoic, loner attitude. But it never was there when it came to us. Not for almost a decade. Feeling it now… dropping down like a sheet of frost, icicles digging under my skin, penetrating my lungs, freezing me so thoroughly not even tears could fall…

This… felt like the end of Ferb and I.

I—there were no words. There were no actions. I felt like an impossible promise: empty and inevitably broken.

Phineas blushed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah… I know this has a lot of complications, implications, and any other number of –ations." He crossed over to us and laid the Platy-Playground plans out on the grass. "I've been grappling with it too, Isabella," he smiled at me, "but I also think we're off to a good start."

I plunged through my maze of hurt, searching for words, words, _words_. To hold on to a glimmer of _happy_ or… or even just _okay. _Anything to fill this void. Anything to keep the tiny, little splinters from scattering in the air of _cold_ coming from my closest friend.

"Yeah," I agreed with a shaky breath. "I guess… we are."

* * *

><p><em>RR please!_

_I'll let you __take that last line as you please._

_Question is… if Phineas and Isabella really start dating, how long until our sweet, quiet Ferb finally explodes? Or maybe Izzy does? Do they do something that compromises the lie about that whole "jealousy theory," and does Phineas find out for himself? What happens to our three favorite characters?_

_Keep tuning in to see, and review, please! They make my day!_

_Lilly-Belle is out, peace!_


	36. Ulterior

_Hello, darlings! Let me premise this chapter by easing some worries that have been coming across in the reviews; THIS IS A FERBELLA FIC :) Ferb and Isabella. So do not fret! Every road has its bumps ad ruts, highs and lows. Besides, how fun would their improbable romance story be without complications?_

_Secondly, I have some bad news. This update came later because I'm having a couple health issues. What started as what was thought was an allergic reaction has turned into some possible nerve issues. I had to have some blood drawn, and in the wake of my two spinal surgeries, my body doesn't handle that well. I'm okay (if any of you were concerned XD). I was just too weak to even move (let alone type) for a while there. I should be fine, though. I have appointments to find out what's going on. Until then, onward!_

_Thanks to all of my reviewers! This time around, I'd especially like to thank my guests! I can't talk to you like I can the other reviewers, so I'll thank you now! You're support is highly appreciated!_

_Enjoy!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Phineas and Ferb._

* * *

><p>CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX:<p>

Ulterior

**FERB**

Two weeks. That's how long it'd been since Phineas first asked Isabella to go to lunch. Fourteen days worth of projects and 1,209,656 seconds that they'd been… I couldn't think of any other way to say it: boyfriend and girlfriend.

"Hey, Phineas…"

1,209,657.

"Hey, Ferb…"

1,209,658.

"What'cha doing?"

"Hey Isabella!" Phineas jumped up from his spot beside me, bounding over to our neighbor and hugging her. I kept my eyes down, forcing all of my will into my fingertips. _Draw line here, jot measurements to side, focus._

"Hey, Ferb," she repeated, and I raised my hand in recognition. _Erase smudge, create arc over top, focus._

"Don't mind him," my brother chirped, pulling our favorite girl with him to the base of our tree. "He's been pouring himself into blueprints as of late. I guess you never know when the inspiration bug will hit, huh?"

"Yeah… Of course," came her voice, shaky and uncertain. _Come on, Bella, you can do better than that!_

But then I remembered I couldn't let myself focus on her. It was too difficult, especially when we all made the discovery that Phineas wasn't as "bad at romance" as we all thought. He was a remarkable boyfriend, albeit awkward from time to time. But it wasn't even a bad awkward, like Irving. It was the cute kind of awkward. The, _aw, let me just hug you, you adorable thing, you,_ kind of awkward.

Their relationship was perfect. Huzzah.

_Make this line half a centimeter longer, account for extra weight, focus. Focus. Focus!_

But her knee brushed against mine as she sat down… and I couldn't focus on the prints in front of me no matter how hard I tried. I finally looked up, and met blue eyes. We both looked away.

Damn, we were so bad at this! It had been a problem all week.

Phineas delved into a debate with himself over what we should do today.

It was incredible that he hadn't caught on to something being up, because Isabella and I were uncomfortable with each other to say the least. So many times these past two weeks, I'd had to leave a room because Phineas put an arm around her, or I had to come up with some excuse as to why I couldn't watch a movie with them—seeing them sitting together on the couch was more than I could bear.

My room had become one of my closest companions.

Knowing my brother, he probably thought I was giving him space to be with his girlfriend. He probably regaled me as the most considerate brother and best friend ever—not only by being an integral part of why they got together, but by letting them have time to themselves now. He probably thought I was being so selfless.

Maybe I would feel better if he knew that wasn't true, that I had my own venal reasons for being so withdrawn. I doubt he'd think I was such a great brother if he knew I was pining for his girlfriend.

_Thicken this line, bang head on wall later, focus._

I failed.

I glanced back up at her, hoping for sure this time it wouldn't happen, but of course… I met blue. We both looked away again. This couldn't keep happening! It wasn't okay! Although, since it just happened, she probably wouldn't look back at me so quickly.

I looked back up at her, and—_damn!_

She burst into a fit of giggles. "Tag. You're it."

"Huh?" Phineas looked up from the array of blueprints sprawled before him. "What do you mean 'I'm it?'"

"Not you. Ferb."

_Not you. Ferb. _I loathed myself for how much I loved hearing her say that.

My brother's eyes fell on me, his head lilting quizzically.

What was Isabella thinking? Drawing attention to the fact that we kept looking at each other at the same time?! That wasn't okay. I wasn't supposed to be glancing at her in the first place! And her whole tag comment… sure it was friendly enough, but her laughter made my insides…

"I want a snack," I sighed, rolling up the paper I'd been working with before standing.

When I made it to the backdoor, I heard Phineas ask, "what did you mean by tag?"

_Have fun answering that, Isabella._

I was inside before I heard her reply, but that was fine by me. This way I could stick with my imagination's answer; _well you see, Phineas, I was trying to flirt with your brother. I'm sorry this won't work out._ But of course that wouldn't be what she said, and it only made me hate myself more; Phineas didn't deserve that. He didn't deserve it at all.

Really, all of this was laughable. I didn't need to be so melodramatic. Phineas and Isabella were happy together, and that fact made me happy. Really, it did. I just… didn't want to witness it. Was that so wrong?

"Hey, sweetie," Mum said, and I jumped. I hadn't seen her when I came in. She was standing in the corner of the kitchen holding today's newspaper.

I responded with a half-salute, half-wave.

"Why aren't you with Phineas and Isabella?" she asked, and her tone was far more knowing than what I would have liked. Whatever; I established my story with Phineas and Isabella, and I was sticking to it.

I crossed to the fridge and pulled out a cheese stick, brandishing it as an answer.

"Ah, I see," she studied me over her newspaper, but I shifted my focus onto the cheese stick in my hands.

When we were kids, Phineas always used to think it was the funniest thing to peel back the plastic wrapper, then fold it up again and give it to Mum and Dad to open. He'd yell _surprise!_ every time they found it was already open, then collapse on the floor laughing like he was the world's greatest prankster. And every time, Mum and Dad would go along with it, exclaiming they had no clue how he got them time and again.

No wonder he has such an active imagination now.

I took the first bite. Sadly, that and my brief reminiscence was the extent of the distraction it could provide.

"Curious how you came in for a snack so soon after you ate breakfast," my mum commented oh so casually—insert sarcasm here.

"Well, that is my answer."

"Uh huh. So are you having another growth spurt, then? I'd hoped we were done with those given how tall you are already."

"Must be." I took bite two, as small as possible, which I chewed slowly. Afterall, I was in no rush to go back outside.

"Are you sure that's the only reason? No alterior motives, there?"

"Your tone implies you already have something in mind."

"Well do you?"

"Alterior. Ulterior. Maybe neither, maybe both. Maybe I just wanted a cheese stick, Mum." Bite three.

"Okay, smarty pants, what's going on?"

"Nothing."

"Uh huh. Are you doing alright?"

"I'm fine." Maybe I should head back outside now…

"We all know that never means you're actually fine. In fact, 'I'm fine' is pretty much universal code for, 'I'm _not_ fine.' How are you handling the two of them being together?"

Well. She stopped beating around the bush rather quickly.

"It's… wonderful to see them… so happy." I could do better than that, couldn't I?

Mum put down her paper. _Oh no. _"You know, Ferb, growing up, your father and I always worried about you." I stared at her. "You were so quiet. I knew you for three months before you even spoke a word to me, and that word was, _please_. And here was Phineas, so lively and all over the place. We were worried you—"

"Were living in Phineas' shadow; I get it. But I'm not!"

Mum stared at me.

"I wasn't going to say that, sweetheart." _Oh_. Well, then… "I was going to say we were worried you'd never come out of your shell when Phineas made it so you wouldn't have to."

"Isn't that pretty much the same thing?"

"No," she laughed. "Yours is a lot more negative. Anyway, you proved us wrong. You grew up to be a confident and engaging young man—albeit one of few words."

"Where are you going with this?"

"Honestly?" She paused in deliberation before admitting, "I'm not quite sure." I felt like face-palming. Then I remembered my whole premise for coming in here, and took the fourth bite.

I thought the conversation would end there, since she openly stated she didn't know what she was trying to say, but with our Mum, it was never that simple. She veered into a tangent. Or maybe this was her main point all along.

"I'm not picking sides here, but I do think Isabella is good for you."

I almost spewed cheese with how quickly I snapped, "No she isn't."

Mum raised her eyebrow at me skeptically.

"She's with Phineas," I elaborated. She _had_ to stop giving me that knowing look; I couldn't take it. She had to understand. "She belongs with him, and they're… just awesome. She's happy, and he's happy, and…" I turned away from her, covering my eyes with my hand. "I should probably go."

"Oh no you don't, young man," with surprising quickness, Mum blocked my escape route. "I know you teenagers hate having these kinds of conversations—well, actually Candace was the opposite, talking about relationships _way _too much, but you know what I mean. Point is, I think it's good for you to talk about this."

"There's nothing to talk about. Nothing is going on between Isabella and I!"

"The more you protest…"

"Mum!" I groaned, turning around, but of course the only other option was for me to go outside. Would Mum follow me? Was that in her nature? Oh god, it was. And she could. I didn't want to risk that.

"Sweetheart, look at us. We're _talking_ right now. You yelled at me just a minute ago. Two months ago, you barely spoke three words to me a week, and now we're having a conversation."

I faltered. We... _were_ talking. She was right; this was absolutely anomalous. "But that has nothing to do with Isabella."

"It has everything to do with Isabella."

_It did?_

"What… do you mean?"

"It's hard to explain, really," Mum hummed, her tone taking a turn for the serious. "Ever since she'd moved in with us, you've been… _different._ I don't quite want to say you're more confident, because you've always been confident. But… more purposeful. More vulnerable. More open."

I nodded my head with each adjective, but understanding was still beyond my reach.

"As a mother, it's been nice to see. I mean, you opened up to Candace. You've been talking to me. You've been connecting to other people in ways you never have before, and your relationship with Isabella is at the heart."

"I still don't…"

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. It's hard to put into words. I don't know. It's like… you've got a direction that's _Ferb_ now. Not Phineas. Not Phineas and Ferb. But Ferb. For once, you were doing something for yourself. I don't want you to lose that. You deserve happiness just as much as Phineas."

My head was swarming with her words, floating along my neurological pathways and jolting each synapsis.

"But Isabella…"

"Would be foolish not to love you," she said. Then she added on quickly, "Or Phineas. I just don't want to see you give up on yourself—on what you want—because you sell yourself short over and over. Everyone does it to you. Except your brother." She gave me a gentle smile. "And the girl across the way."

"But… you're not picking sides," I reiterated, watching a sly smile spread across her lips.

"Nope. You're all my kids, and it goes against Mom Code to pick sides."

She must have seen the doubt on my face; afterall, I technically had a different mother. I was her stepson. That left a twinge of uncertainty, no matter how wonderful she was.

Mum put her hands on my shoulders.

"Ferb, I love each of you kids equally—regardless of whether you gave me stretch marks or not." She kissed my forehead. "If anything, it gives me a reason to love you just a smidge more."

With a wink, she ventured further into the house, leaving me alone with the half-eaten cheese stick I never wanted in the first place.

Huh.

Candace and Mum seemed to be telling me the exact same thing; I should make a stand for Isabella.

But… I just couldn't do that. How could they not see that I couldn't do that? How could they expect me to barge in on my little brother's happy relationship—with our mutual best friend, I might add—and split them up with the hopes of claiming the girl as my own?

It was wrong on so many levels. This whole situation was wrong on so many levels. Not just in the circumstances now, but everything below it. The ulterior, if you will.

I was never supposed to fall in love with Isabella. That was never part of the plan. She was always supposed to be in love with my oblivious but loveable brother, pining over him until he came around. Then they'd get together, and, with me as their trusty sidekick, we'd change the world—or some other fluffy crap to that like.

This was wrong because the supporting cast wasn't supposed to fall for the lead. I wasn't supposed to jump in, muddy the water, and confuse the lovely lady about her part. And now what; the audience wanted it this way? They applauded for more? This scene was never meant to play.

I was trying my hardest to stay out of the way, and their encouragement only made this harder. I already avoided my best friend and brother. I holed up in my room. I turned my back time and again. But it was what needed to be done!

Although… in actuality, they really weren't that bad. For the most part, our days passed as they had every summer for years—the same quotidian creation of invention, questioning of Perry's location, and strange phenomenon that cleared the day's activity away—despite the budding relationship. They weren't lovey dovey by any normal standards, but… I still couldn't bring myself to stick around them.

Maybe I was the one that changed.

Phineas met my eyes from the backyard and motioned for me to come back out. Next to him, Isabella picked at a blade of grass, unwilling to lose this little game of tag we were playing—at least, thinking of it that way was easier.

I grabbed my rolled-up blueprint off the counter, lifting it and pantomiming using a pencil. Then I pointed up; _I'm going to go work on this upstairs._ I lifted my hand in farewell, but Phineas' crestfallen face stopped me cold. Why did he have to give me that look? Wasn't this hard enough as it was?

He held his finger up in a _one minute_ gesture, and said something quickly to Isabella. Her eyes grew wide, if only for a second, but as Phineas kept talking, she nodded.

Then she stood up. She started walking toward me. Just her. Alone. Walking toward me. _Uh._

She opened the door and slid inside, closing it behind her. She didn't come any farther into the room. She just stood there, her hands behind her back, holding on to the door handle like a ship tethered to a dock.

I stared at her. It was the first time today that I really got a good look at her. She was wearing a swooping pink tank top and a pair of jean shorts, and she looked absolutely gorgeous… I hoped her boyfriend made sure to tell her that.

"We want you to come back outside," she said, her eyes drifting up to meet mine.

"Did Phineas tell you to say that?"

"Truthfully? Yes. But that doesn't mean it isn't universal. I want you to come back outside, too."

"Why did he send you in here to tell me?"

"Well, he figured you wouldn't listen to him. He thinks you're giving us space, but he always wants you around. I'm guessing he thought if you heard from _me_ that we still wanted you around even though Phineas and I are… now that we… well, it'd be more convincing."

"That's an interesting theory."

Her eyes fell to her shoes again, though out of guilt, embarrassment, shyness, reluctance—whatever it was, I couldn't tell. I was expecting some smart remark or clever retort, but that's not what I got.

"I miss you, Ferb," she said quietly.

"I haven't gone anywhere," I countered, though we both know that wasn't exactly true.

She just watched me, her eyes pools of emotion I somehow couldn't read. After what felt like forever, she sighed. "The worst distances aren't physical."

For an insane second, I thought about Mum and Candace's words, their encouragement to make a stand for Isabella. I wanted her, and I figured there was a part of her that wanted me too.

But Phineas sat outside. Waiting for at least one of us to return.

I was quiet and so was she, and I realized she was waiting for my answer.

"Tell Phineas I'm sorry, but that I have a massive brainstorm I have to get on paper. He has those often; he'll understand."

"Ferb, how long are you going to avoid me?" Her voice had a new level of anguish in it, and she stepped forward. Her hand reached out to me, as if to take mine and pull me back outside, but we both recoiled like we'd come in contact with boiling water.

No touching. We… we couldn't touch each other. We never had time to really go over what we were to each other now, but that seemed like a pretty solid rule.

"I'm sorry," was all I could respond. My knuckles were turning white over my blueprints, but she didn't notice; her eyes never wavered from mine.

Without a word, she nodded. She didn't blink. She didn't even look like she was breathing. I turned around.

_Exhale, walk forward, focus._

When I made it to the stairs, I heard the backdoor open, and when it closed, my eyes did too. I made it to my room and shut the door. The blinds were closed, and it was darker in here, but I didn't mind.

The blueprint I'd been working on was mangled in my clenched fist, and I tore it in half. The two scraps fell to the floor, but it wasn't good enough. Well, it felt good, but it wasn't enough. I shoved all my books from my desk, and the sound of sprawling pages was surprisingly soothing. But that was as far as my miniature tantrum went.

I grabbed a fresh blueprint sheet from the top drawer of my desk and fell to the floor beside my books.

_Grab pencil, put to paper, focus._

Any second now, inspiration would come. Wonderful, distracting inspiration.

_Block her out. Focus._

I began to draw.

* * *

><p><em>RR please!_

_Poor Ferb. Well, poor everybody. No explosion… yet. Or will there even be an explosion? Will Phineas find out on his own? Will Isabella tell him or not, because she doesn't want to hurt the sweetheart, but she clearly has fallen for Ferb._

_Thanks for your patience. Although… really, my 'slow' updates are really quick compared to most people's stories XD I'm just a nut, I guess. Oh, and to clarify, alterior is when you claim something as a motive in the place of something else, like saying you're going to the store to buy bread, but you really just want to talk to the cute cashier. Ulterior is more of an underlying motive. It's harder to explain… like, you want to run a race to be healthy, which is a motive, but your ulterior (underlying) motive is because it raises money for breast cancer. If that doesn't make sense to you, feel free to look it up ^.^_

_I'm a loquacious sesquipedalian. My favorite word is floccinaucinihilipilification. But I try to not use too big of words in my writing XD_

_Sorry for taking so long here. Have an absolutely fabulous day!_

_~Lilly-Belle_


	37. Proud

_So thankfully this isn't an issue with my surgeries. I spent so much time taking care of my little sister that I somehow caught a children's virus (usually only seen in kids under the age of 10), but because I'm 18, it got super bad. All the symptoms amplified on a grand scale, and I'll be too weak to lift much more than a water bottle for another few weeks… Sadly, I'm a junior in college, and have a ton of books I need to carry, classes I need to attend, places to be... Yay, life!_

_Anyhoo, enough of my personal woes (tee hee… I used the name of the story…)_

_Enjoy this chapter, guys! And thanks for the reviews!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Phineas and Ferb._

* * *

><p>CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN:<p>

Proud

**ISABELLA**

Today was a big day.

No—that wasn't enough.

Today was the day I'd worked for since I was four years old.

Today was my day of fulfillment, the completion and recognition of my magnum opus. This was it!

Today was the day Troop 46231 received it's Senior Fireside Girls' Community Service Project patch—the last one—after it was approved and finally achieved the highest honor: the Fireside Girls' Golden Flame Award.

My feet were buoyant, the clouds cowered below my spirit, and my cheeks burned from my endless smile; today was the day!

"Isabella!" Katie gasped, holding a patch shaped like an ice cream cone. "This fell off the back of my sash!"

The Senior Fireside Girls' uniforms hadn't changed much over the years. Instead of an orange vest, we wore an orange collared shirt, but the pleated skirt, sash, and burets were all the same.

I jumped to my alarmed friend, making quick work of the patch dilemma.

"It's crunch time, girls," I called, moving on to straighten Milly's hat.

"You're going to rock your speech, Chief," Gretchen smiled, but I waved her off. I wasn't going to focus on _that_ until I absolutely had to.

"Bet your _boyfriend_ is awfully proud of you," Holly giggled, and I laughed anxiously. Right… my boyfriend…

I finished inspecting my girls, and each of them looked amazing. My mama bear side was bursting with pride; out of all troops in the Tri-State Area, mine was the only one that had the entire group finishing this together. Every single one of us made it. When that was finished and they all looked their best, I pulled the bow on my hat taught—the sign of my leadership.

We were moments away from the big ceremony commemorating our completion of the program. The excitement could not be contained! Not only was this placing a crown upon all of our past efforts, but also paving the way for our future, since Fireside Girls to go all the way got into almost any college with hefty scholarships.

Together, the girls and I walked out into the pavilion behind the Fireside Girl Lodge and took our seats in the rows of plastic chairs in front of a stage. There were girls from all over Danville receiving the award today, and between them, their families, and the star-struck eyes of the observing Lil' Sparks, there were hundreds of people here.

The ceremony began, calling up girls by troop number, leader, then alphabetical order. It was a little slow and dreary, since the one doing the announcing was Eliza M. Feyerseid. Although she had plenty of spirit, her age caused her words to prattle on a little excessively here and there. I zoned in and out.

"Troop 46226 members, approach the stage," Ms. Feyerseid croaked. "Troop 46231, to the waiting area."

This jolted me out of my stupor. I hadn't been expecting to be called up so soon, but I suppose it made sense. Not every troop had girls that made it this far, afterall.

The deep breath that came from all of my girls was so in sync, you'd have thought we rehearsed it. We all linked hands and made our way to a special waiting zone beside the stage. There were only two girls in Troop 46226 who earned the award, and they were over quickly, but there was plenty of time for my eyes to sweep over the crowd.

Mama was sitting in the parents' second row, and despite the distance, I could tell she was crying. Which of course meant I would probably cry after this when I met up with her, but I flashed her a brilliant smile anyway.

Sitting next to her were the Flynn-Fletchers. Although their presence wasn't unexpected—they'd been a second family to me all these years—I was deeply touched they were here. Linda did a mock silent clap in celebration and Lawrence gave me a discreet thumbs up. Phineas beamed at me, which I gladly returned, but my eyes inevitably shifted to the boy next to him.

Ferb. Honestly, after these past two weeks of distance, I feared he might not even come. It was ridiculous, of course; Ferb wouldn't have missed this no matter what was going on in our social lives. He was always there for me, even when I didn't deserve it.

He was watching me, and when our gazes met, I expected him to quickly look away like he had so many times as of late—but this time he didn't. And despite everything that had happened, everything that was going on, the corner of his mouth pulled up: his signature smirk.

Those seconds stretched out, lulled into stagnation by his eyes. They were magnetic, and I was transfixed. What were _my_ eyes saying right now? Because his seemed like an invitation. Or perhaps I was being a little too optimistic. Or overzealous. I couldn't wait for a congratulatory hug.

"And now, Troop 46231, obtaining special recognition today for not only keeping the entire troop together since Lil' Spark days, but for having every active member obtain their Golden Flame Award!"

Gretchen squeezed my hand; this was when we were supposed to go on stage. I felt like I'd just come out of a trance. No, that didn't quite cover it. I felt like I was in the middle of my favorite book, turned the page, then read something that completely broke my suspension of disbelief. It was… an unexpected letdown.

"It's time, chief," Gretchen whispered excitedly, and we made our way onto the stage.

"Troop Leader, Isabella Garcia-Shapiro," Ms. Feyerseid called, and I walked across the stage. This was it! Our founder turned toward me, a velvety case in each palm. "For your outstanding work as a Fireside Girl and your dedication to improving not only yourself, but also your community, I present you with the Senior Fireside Girl Community Service Project Patch."

She handed me the maroon box where I knew my patch resided. I glanced out at my mom, giving her one of my best smiles.

"And now, for your demonstration of highest dedication, responsibility, and achievement, I hereby give you the Golden Flames Award. You have completed your Fireside Girl journey. Congratulations."

She handed me the golden box, which was heavier than the first, but I knew the treasure inside was far more valuable. Instead of a material patch, the Golden Flames Award was an actual gold pin.

Pure golden sunshine, pride, and joy!

The parents were asked to hold their applause until all awards were passed out, but my support team all clapped silently. I paused and smiled, staring right at my mother. A flash of a camera later, and I was making my way offstage.

The rest of my troop was called and presented with their patches, and we returned to our seats. We were all supposed to remain completely professional—no looking back at parents or excitedly squealing with each other… _yet_—but the rest of the ceremony seemed to go a lot more quickly with the anxiety behind us.

That, and now we could all ogle our prizes. The Golden Flames Award was breathtaking: the standard Fireside Girl logo of two crossed torches, surrounded by what looked like a laurel crown, but it was brilliantly made. The laurel was woven so intricately that, when tiled left and right, they looked like little flames licking up the sides.

Best. Day. Ever.

We finally made it to the final leg of the ceremony—the most nerve-racking moment of the night for me. All day, I'd been trying to forget what was about to happen, or I ran the risk of working myself up.

"And now, finishing our ceremony, please welcome Troop 46231 Leader Isabella Garcia-Shapiro back to the stage for closing remarks."

_Oh boy, here I go. _Ginger's hand squeezed my shoulder, and after a deep breath, I stood up. I walked back up to the stage and, with an encouraging smile, Ms. Feyerseid bequeathed the podium to me.

I'd worked hard on finding just the right words for this speech. I'd practiced. I was prepared. My mind went into _Leader Mode_, and my public-speaking side took control of my brain. One more deep breath, and I began.

I touched on the connections we'd made, sisters we'd found, lives we'd changed, et cetera. It was fluffy, but I also liked to think it was effective. So many in the audience were tearing up, and my smile grew even wider.

It was only a five minute speech, and I was winding down to my conclusion, reassuring all the award recipients that even though we'd obtained every patch and achieved our highest within the program, we would never stop seeking ways to grow. We'd not only transcend, but redefine boundaries.

Yes, it was full of clichés, but what congratulatory speech wasn't? I also had worked hard to present these oh-so-tired ideas in fresh ways, and I'm pretty sure I did a good job; I was met with a standing ovation.

Best. Day. Ever!

I thanked the founder and all of the Fireside Girl administration, and made my way back to my seat.

The ceremony officially ended as we all pulled out a miniature sewing kit—yes, we all carried miniature sewing kits; we were always prepared—and sewed the community service project patch on the final blank spot on our sashes.

Once that was over, we were dismissed, and a roar of cheers went up through the pavilion. Chaos ensued; the girls swarmed me in a group hug, everyone was everywhere, and I heard my mom call my name from somewhere to my left. I disengaged from my troop and rushed toward the sound of her voice.

"Mama!" I cried excitedly, working through the throng of people.

"Aquí. Here, Isa!" came her call, and I easily found her despite the fact that the majority of the crowd towered over her. "Isa, I'm so proud of you! First _this, _and then your birthday next week! Mi bebé, mi cariña… all grown up! I can't believe it!"

She engulfed me in a hug so fierce my breath left my lungs.

"Can't… breathe," I wheezed, returning her hug to the best of my abilities when I was being squeezed to death.

"Lo siento, mija." She eased up, but didn't let me go. "I'm just so proud of you! Golden Flame Award, leader of the only troop to have every member make it this far, special speaker today. Plus all your grades, getting voted to Student Body President next year—ay que… Grampapa's heart would just melt to see you now. Such a beautiful young woman!"

She stepped back to wipe away the new tears slipping down her cheeks.

"Mama, you're going to make me cry," I breathed, looking up and fanning my face. I could never handle it when my mom got teary. Thankfully, a new distraction presented itself, and I was able to swallow down the ball of emotion building in my throat.

"Congrats, Isabella!" Phineas glomped me from behind, and I turned around, flinging my arms around his neck in a hug.

It wasn't that I was avoiding kissing him… it just worked out that way. Besides, hugs were wonderfully free of guilt.

Which is why I pulled back and turned to Ferb. But his demeanor—hands in pocket, rigid posture, emotionless face, closed attitude—did nothing to encourage a hug.

"Congratulations," he said, his mouth pulling into a terse smile. He made no motion to do or say any more.

Well… that really sucked.

I masked the hurt tingling up my spine by turning to the remaining Flynn-Fletchers. Before I could even take in their presence, a bouquet of flowers was shoved into my arms—pink lilies.

"These are from the whole family," Linda hummed, pulling me into a hug before passing me on to Lawrence so he could do the same.

"Oh my gosh, thank you!"

I smiled down at their gift, feeling like I was absolutely glowing. Even though I pretty much grew up as 'one of the guys,' I was such a flower girl! Really, flowers for any occasion, and you had my heart! I smelled them, and was stunned when I realized something.

"Samur Lilies?" I gasped, gaping at Linda. "These—these are my favorite!" I beamed at every member of the family in turn, bouncing up and down on my toes. "These are my absolute favorite!"

"Well duh," Phineas laughed. "That's kinda' the point, Isabella!"

"But how—"

"Ferb knows everything," Phineas replied like it was the most obvious answer in the world. Maybe it should have been. I found myself unable to look up from the flowers now, unable to look at the boy who just kept getting more and more perfect. How had he known I loved Samur Lilies?

"Thank you," I repeated, though not necessarily directed at the entire family this time.

"Yo, Iz!" A girl cried, and a second later, Ginger pushed through the crowd. Much to my surprise, Baljeet was there too, his arm around my best girlfriend. Well… maybe I should think of her as _his_ girlfriend now. She'd have to give me more details on that later.

"Hey!" I replied. She grabbed my hands, and we both jumped up and down with excited squeals.

"It's official; Troop sleepover at Katie's," she declared. "We're about to leave! Attendance is mandatory, girl!"

I looked to my mom, and she nodded in approval. I gave her my flowers, knowing she'd cut them and put them in a vase.

"You girls should go have a great time," she moved forward and kissed my forehead.

"Heaven knows you've earned it," Lawrence chimed in, giving me a one-armed hug. Linda followed suit, but Ferb once again refrained from hugging me. Instead he smiled, and although this one felt more real than the first, it still wasn't enough. Gah, I hated this!

"I guess that means I'll see you tomorrow?" Phineas asked, and I confirmed. He pulled me into a hug, and if it weren't for the crowd, I knew he would have kissed me, but neither of us were too big on PDA. Especially not with his whole family standing right next to us. Super awkward. As it was, though, he still gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. "See you then."

Damn, this would be easier if he wasn't so sweet! Seriously! It was like the luckiest, worst, weirdest, grass is always greener, shouldn't complain but could complain, awkward, lovable but hate-able, complicated things ever! I should leave.

I did so with Ginger shortly after, Baljeet staying behind with my boys. As soon as we were out of earshot, her entire demeanor changed.

"We ever going to talk about this?"

"Tell me about Baljeet first."

"No. There's plenty of time to get into that when we're with everyone else. I finally have an ounce of your time, and we're going to talk about what the hell is going on with you."

"Whoa, Ginge', what's with the tone?"

"You've been avoiding one-on-one time with me," she accused.

I opened my mouth to protest.

"Don't you dare protest," she snapped, and my mouth closed. "Don't lie, Iz! We both know it's true."

I felt like a flower withering away under her glare. I could tell she wasn't actually too upset, but all of my emotions—especially my internal Guilt Factories—were running overtime.

It wasn't like I was avoiding being alone with her… I was simply jumping on any conveniences that just happened to arrange my time with her within the company of another… was that so wrong?

Sigh. Even I had to call bull on that. She was right.

"Alright, fine," I conceded. "I'm sorry. I just… I guess I really didn't want to have this conversation."

"That should tell you all you need to know," Ginger sighed, and I raised my eyebrow at her questioningly. She rolled her eyes. "You're avoiding this conversation because you know how ridiculous you're being. You just don't want to admit it."

"Ridiculous?" I spluttered, "I am _not_ being ridiculous! I'm not!"

But even as I said it, I disproved it; I sounded like a child throwing a fit. The look on my friend's face betrayed her recognition of this. I hung my head.

"Isabella, why the hell are you with Phineas? What happened?"

"I—what do you mean?" I asked stupidly. I knew very well what she meant, but I wanted to stall. I wanted to have an answer. I wanted to know what I was going to say. I was failing.

"Ferb, Isabella," she said flatly. "Ferb. Why the hell are you in a relationship with the wrong brother?"

To this, at least, I had a response.

"I'm not." Was that inflection in my words? How was I supposed to convince Ginger when I couldn't even convince myself? I tried again; "I'm not in a relationship with the wrong brother, Ginger. I'm perfectly happy with Phineas."

"Oh, I'm sure you are," she laughed. "It's Phineas. Of course you're happy with him. But not in the way you should be."

This irked me. "Who are you to say—"

"Don't get your panties in a bunch! Stop sticking up that annoying, defensive bubble of yours and listen for a minute."

I stared her down, my arms folded against my chest. I let my eyes convey one clear message; _you are on a fine line here. Watch it. _That was the thing about Ginger, though; for better or worse, she told it to me straight.

"You're too scared to approach the idea that your heart belongs to someone _other_ than Phineas, and even if you weren't such a big chicken, you're too stubborn and proud to accept that fact as true. So instead, you're in loopsy land, going along your merry way with Phineas because you won't even admit how you feel about Ferb!"

My eyebrows lifted in surprise. "Ginger… that's not true." She was wrong. How could she not see that she was so wrong?

She gave me a skeptical look, and I looked down at my feet. I took a deep breath.

"I have approached that idea. I know I care about Ferb." She was about to criticize me again, but I rushed on. "As more than a friend. Just like you said. I'm not denying that. I know I have feelings for him."

"Then why are you with Phineas?"

"Because… I like Phineas."

"Not as much," she scoffed. "Try again."

I sighed.

"Because I don't want to hurt Phineas! He's so sweet, and so caring, and I really am happy with him. And breaking up with him—let alone telling him the reason _why_ I would—would destroy him! I could never do that."

Ginger nodded, apparently pleased by that response. "Now we're getting somewhere," she breathed. "So what about Ferb?"

"What about him?" I laughed, though without any humor. The hurt I'd been trying to push down for so long bubbled up into my words. "He's so distant now. So cold. And even though I know he cares, it still stings. Why would I give up a working relationship for something so messy, anyway? I don't want that."

"Beep, beep."

"What?"

"Oh, sorry," Ginger replied, completely straight-faced. "That was just my BS-ometer going off. Pay no mind."

"Izzy! Gingey!"

We both turned toward Adyson's voice and saw the rest of our troop. That effectively ended our conversation, which I was thankful for.

The rest of the night was one of celebration, and we were all so excited that Katie's house could barely contain it. Board games, dinner, and _lots_ of girl talk.

Of course everyone wanted to talk about Phineas and I's relationship, but I managed to keep that topic to a minimum, since it wasn't the most recent relationship amongst our group; Ginger and Baljeet had apparently gone on a couple dates under the radar, but were now officially boyfriend and girlfriend. Then Holly revealed she'd had a bit of a fling with some guy she'd met at the mall.

I kept it moving forward, too afraid to fixate and, like a shark, drown in the doubt the conversation would bring. It was far easier than I expected, though, since the girls were convinced my relationship with Phineas was absolutely perfect. Girl talk wasn't fun without drama, and talk of Holly's fling trumped perfect relationship.

"Isabella and I are going to make everyone hot chocolate," Ginger declared, nudging my shoulder.

I froze mid-laugh at something Gretchen had said. "We are?"

"Yes." She stood, offering her hand to help me out of one of Katie's giant, overly fluffy beanie bag chairs. I knew she wanted to talk some more, which I didn't want, but she'd painted me into a corner; how could I refuse and not look suspicious? I took her hand.

It wasn't until we made it down to the kitchen that she spoke.

"I believe we left off where you were stupidly trying to convince yourself that you didn't want to go out with Ferb."

I grabbed seven mugs from a cabinet, thankful for the excuse to avoid her gaze. "You're evil."

"Look, if you're unwilling to face the truth, I'll state it for you."

"That's unnecessary," I groaned, which she took as a cue for 'absolutely necessary.'

"Oh come on! You are clearly crazy about each other! Why do this to yourselves?"

"We are not," I lied. It was a lie. The worst lie. Liar, liar, pants on fire. But it wasn't enough. I was with Phineas. _Phineas._

"Oh please! You two were all over each other! That isn't something that just goes away."

I felt my cheeks flare with heat. "We… weren't…"

"Honey, you were pressed together in a closet, making out with his hands up your skirt! I seriously—" I slapped my hand over her mouth.

"Jeese, Ginger, just announce it to the whole world!"

She smacked my hand away. "You should."

"What?"

"You _should_ announce it to the world. The two of you are being absolutely ridiculous."

"We are not!" I spat, if somewhat childishly. I adjusted my tone. "We're completely justified."

"I get it, Isabella. I promise I do. You don't want to hurt Phineas, Ferb doesn't want to hurt Phineas, but come on! You can't control with whom you fall in love or when. It's complicated, and messy, and confusing, and unexpected, but you can't help it."

"I—"

"You can't deny it anymore."

"I'm not denying it," I denied. I was bad at this.

"You're too proud to admit it's true. It's the same thing."

"I'm not too proud!"

"Then say it!"

"No!"

"You're in love with Ferb!"

"I don't deserve him!" I exploded, and it felt like everything left me. I was a balloon with no air, a doll with no stuffing.

"Isabella…" Ginger sighed, but she didn't say anything else. Her brown eyes seemed to draw more from me. Or maybe my body was telling me that if I was going to empty myself, I might as well go all the way.

"I don't deserve him," I whimpered. "He's… he's perfect in every way, absolutely perfect, and I'm just… I'm just… I don't deserve him, alright?"

Ginger stared at me, her expression softening. Although, that only made me feel worse. I wanted to curl up now, wanted to—

"You're in love with Ferb?" came a new voice, and Ginger and I went rigid. We both turned on our heel to see Adyson standing at the entryway, staring at us with a shocked look on her face.

But the horror didn't end there.

Behind Adyson was the rest of my troop, eyes wide and jaws hanging open.

My blood chilled, surely coming to a stop. I couldn't even breathe; it was Ginger who spoke.

"How… much did you hear?"

Adyson, Milly, Holly, Katie and Gretchen filed into the kitchen, all but the latter crossing their arms. They almost looked… angry? Oh no, what did they hear? _What did they hear?_

"Enough," Adyson sniffed. "We heard enough."

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><p><em>RR please! Your reviews are a hug each ^.^ Which… I suppose would be a little weird, since I don't know you… but whatever ^.^_

_Now the troop knows… which could create some issues. The more this spreads, the looser the lips… Uh oh-sies XD_

_Until next time, hope your life is fabulous! Review, and adieu!_

_~Lilly-Belle_


	38. Secrets

_I can't believe it… 300 reviews and 20,000+ views! You guys are awesome!_

_To all my reviewers that regularly follow this, you are my light! Haha now that that got weird, let me just genuinely thank you ^.^ Your support is inspiring._

_To all my guest reviewers, thanks for the time! I wish I could send you a message to really thank you, but since there's no PM set up for you, this will have to do! Your reviews are so exciting! And Lilly-FAN… is that name just coincidence, or should I be flattered? Either way, welcome to the story, and thanks for the review!_

_I kicked butt writing this week. I've been sick in bed, so I'm now five and a half chapters ahead XD Enjoy!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Phineas and Ferb._

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><p>CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT:<p>

Secrets

**PHINEAS**

After Isabella left with her troop, we went home, but this time we had a tag-along.

Baljeet sat next to me, regaling me with the exciting story of how he'd been secretly going on a couple dates with Ginger. Now they were together! I couldn't be happier for them, despite my overall feeling of bewilderment. I decided to share.

"I can't believe it," I laughed. "I mean, who'd of thought there was this entire relationship developing, and no one noticed! An entire relationship, right under our noses. Crazy!"

Next to me, Ferb choked on the water he'd been downing.

"Whoa, slow down, bro." I pounded on his back and he gave me a thumbs up.

Baljeet watched Ferb. "Yes, who would have thought doing such a thing was possible. An _entire_ secret relationship, right under everyone's noses." Ferb stared back at Baljeet.

"Well, I've never done well with secrets," I admitted, though I was sure it didn't even need to be said. "Can't keep them, can't have them. I've found it's a pretty steady policy."

We made it home pretty quickly, and Baljeet confirmed he could stay over. This was exciting! The girls got their sleepover, and now we'd have one of our own. Although… I doubt the other two would appreciate that thought process. 'Sleepover' wasn't the manliest notion out there… oh well. Carpe diem.

Despite that attitude, there seemed to be some silent, universal dude agreement that we didn't do relationship talk… at least not without some other activity with which it could be paired.

Tonight we were doing it old school, whipping out our retro systems and going ham, dog-bone controller style. Eh… I still couldn't pull off that street lingo, but the premise remained; nothing said Guy's Night like 16-bit zombie games where soda cans and clown punching bags were considered weapons.

Once we were nice and cushioned in our gaming, Baljeet continued on talking about Ginger and him. Apparently there'd been a few complications with her super strict father, but after he got a decent dose of the inhumanly goody-goody academic, he decided he didn't have much to worry about.

Then the conversation veered into the topic of Isabella.

"Really, I just can't believe this is all happening," I admitted, shooting an alien that randomly dropped down on a football field. "Baljeet, did you find the key to that door?"

Since it was so old, this game was only two-player, but we rotated the gameplay. Once we beat this level, Ferb would take over for me.

"Yes, I got it. Plus I saved a cheerleader. Move on to the next area." I did as he suggested, and we played in silence until Baljeet realized he'd never addressed the other side of our conversation. "Oh, and I am not surprised. Every guy falls for Isabella at some point or another."

That brought me up short. Every guy fell for Isabella?

"Really?"

"Oh yes. She has a confidence that draws guys in. Me? Those were the middle school days. Buford? Second semester Freshman year. Irving? Well, I am not entirely sure _when_, but he wants anything either Flynn-Fletcher wants."

If these stupid undead creatures weren't swarming me, I would have stared at him.

"I never even realized… but you don't think I need to be worried or anything, do you?"

Baljeet was quiet for a long time, so I looked to Ferb.

"You know everything, bro. Do _you_ think anyone else likes Isabella?"

He looked up from the book in his lap with an expression that was clearly surprised.

"What?"

"Do you think anyone else likes Isabella?" I repeated. "You know… as in, _like_-likes."

He stared back down at his book, taking three seconds before turning the page.

"It wouldn't matter if they did. She's with you, so she's taken."

"That makes sense," I nodded.

I found a potion that turned my little character into a giant monster! Yes! Now I could really kick butt!

"But wouldn't you want to know, Phineas?" Baljeet said, spamming one of his buttons in an attempt to escape a swarm of enemies. "If someone did, wouldn't you want them to tell you?"

Ferb's book shut in his lap. I paused the game. "There… isn't something you want to tell me, is there Baljeet?"

Our Indian friend turned bright red. "What?! No! No, no, of course not!" His hands flailed defensively in front of his face. "No, I am with Ginger, and I am really happy! That is not—oh, this is so embarrassing."

His head slumped down into his hands, and I laughed. "Ok, ok, 'Jeet. Just making sure. You seem to have some purpose with this, and I wasn't sure what. If some other guy liked Ginger, would you want them to tell you? I'd think that'd make it kind of awkward."

"Well…" he started slowly, "if they were someone who was close to me, then yes. I would want them to tell me."

I leaned forward. This was uncharted water for me, and it was fascinating.

"So how does the closeness of the relationship fit into the paradigm?"

"Well, if I was dating a girl, and if one of my friends had feelings for that girl—or, even more serious, my close friend, best friend, _brother_, or anything of that sort—then I would want to know. I would not want them to be hurting without my knowledge. If I knew, then I could try to do stuff to… ease the pain, or something."

I nodded my head. That was an intriguing idea. Relevancy was still called to question, but before I could inquire further, Ferb spoke.

Which… was odd…

"But Phineas is right; that'd be terribly awkward. It would only put stress on both the relationship and the friendship, and it's not like you'd stop dating her. Then no one would be happy. I'm sure they'd be justified for keeping it secret."

I stared at him. Afterall, that was what, four? _Five_ sentences? Super weird. But his words were valid.

"Ferb has a point. Baljeet, Buford comes up to you tomorrow and tells you he has feelings for Ginger. What do you do?"

Baljeet laughed.

"It is Buford. I would buy him a banana split and a new pack of Tough Gum, and he would be over it."

Walked right into that one. He was right, though. For a hotheaded bully, Buford was remarkably mellow.

"Phineas, your closest friend is Ferb." Baljeet turned it right back around on me. "What would you do if he looked you in the eye right now and told you he was in love with Isabella?"

I looked over to my brother, who was staring incredulously at Baljeet. Apparently he thought that was just as preposterous as I did. Still, that question was pretty awkward and tough to answer. I decided to go with a joke.

"I'd say it's a good thing Isabella has liked me for a while. I can't compete with Ferb when it comes to the ladies."

I picked up my controller again, and was surprised when Baljeet didn't do the same. I looked over at him to find him staring back at me with a face that was clearly disappointed. I turned to Ferb on my other side, and he looked surprised by my answer.

"What? It was a joke." I shook my controller at Baljeet, indicating I was going to unpause, and he picked his up too. A joke… but nevertheless, I sighed. "Although it is true. If I was competing with Ferb for Isabella's heart, I'd probably lose."

More silence. I unpaused the game and we started playing again, but there was an unexpected seriousness that draped over us all now. Then things got _really_ weird; Ferb broke the quiet.

"That's not true, Phineas. You'd get the girl."

I paused again, staring down at the controller. What a strange conversation… but I'd always struggled with being too honest. With choosing what personal thoughts I should share and what I should keep to myself. It went along with that whole secrets thing; I couldn't keep them at all.

And maybe it was oddly vulnerable and a little too weighty for a typical Guy's Night, but I couldn't stop myself from saying, "honestly, I don't know why she fell for me and not you."

Ferb stared at me, but instead of remaining quiet like I expected, he spluttered, "What?"

"Well, think about it…" I sighed. "I mean, I know I met her first, and we were friends first, but all _my_ positive qualities you have too—"

"She fell for you the moment she met you, Phineas…" he talked over me, but I kept going.

"I mean, creativity, passion for our work, love of fun—it's all there, only you're a lot more romantic and you're a better listener. You're less absorbed in our projects."

"Phineas, are you even listening to yourself?"

"I mean, I didn't pay enough attention to notice she's liked me these past twelve years, but it's other stuff too. What's her shoe size? What is she afraid of? If she could travel anywhere, where would it be? How many kids does she want some day?" I sighed. "What's her favorite kind of flower?"

"Phineas—" Ferb tried again.

"You know the answer to every one of those questions, don't you?" I asked, but Ferb gave no indication of answering. "Don't you?" I prompted again.

"I'm sorry," he said slowly, his eyes scanning my face, "I was just trying to figure out if this is a trick question."

"No, it's not. You could answer every single one of those, couldn't you?"

"Yes."

"Well?"

He sighed. "Seven. Thunderstorms. Wales. Five. And of course, Samur Lilies. But, Phineas, where are you going with this?"

My brother was watching me cautiously. I'd been planning some grand exclamation of, _aha!_ or something when he proved me right, but instead I could only shake my head in wonder.

"What?"

"That," I exhaled, gesturing towards him. "See, that's what I'm talking about. If this were actually some competition for her, I would lose."

"All of that makes for a very flattering theory, Phineas, but you're forgetting one crucial fact that proves it wrong."

"I am?"

"Yes." He picked up his book again. "You got the girl."

Then Baljeet sneezed, and my brother and I looked back at him.

"Oh, I am sorry," he sniffed, rubbing his nose. "Ignore me; you two were having a very productive conversation."

Wait… why were we even having this conversation? I mean, I know I like theoretical arguments, like String Theory and stuff. Heck, Argumentation Theory was something we dabbled in all the time. But this one was a little… _out there._

I unpaused the game, and Baljeet scrambled for his controller.

And it made me feel… weird. Was this insecurity? I didn't like this very much, but I also had no reason to feel insecure. I decided to go in a different direction.

"Since when have you been so chatty, Ferb? That was almost like a conversation."

I glanced over to my brother, and he shrugged. This time, he didn't say anything.

"Well, I guess you're back to normal," I muttered. We found the last person we needed to find, and an exit door appeared. "Hey, we beat the level."

I held my controller out to Ferb. He took it without hesitation, but he looked surprisingly pensive. Well, it was Ferb, so he always looked pensive, but this was more than usual.

"You just keep breaking the mold today," I laughed, shaking my head at him.

"What do you mean?" he asked, and the irony made me laugh even more.

"That! Right there! Since when do you _respond_ to me? I'm used to blabbing away to absolute silence, not conversing."

"People can have off days," he chuckled, and I playfully punched him in the shoulder.

"Oh come on, you know I'm not complaining."

He gave me a look that clearly said, _duh._

"Well, at least you're playing now. After all this time, we should be on the earthworm level!"

"Or at least to the one with the scary hedge-maze chainsaw guys," Baljeet chuckled nervously. "I hate them."

"Yeah, but it's always fun to watch you play that level, 'Jeet. You jump every time they come near you!"

"Or anytime they play the chainsaw sound effect," my brother tacked on.

"Hey!" Baljeet blustered, "you cannot kill them, you are stuck running around a maze, and they can _cut through the walls_ to get to you! It is perfectly understandable that my nerves would be wracked."

"Well save the wracking of your nerves for at least five minutes. I want to make some popcorn."

I stood up and made my way out my bedroom door, Baljeet's call of, "_ha-ha, Phineas, you are so funny!_" following me down the hall.

* * *

><p><strong>FERB<strong>

The moment Phineas left the room to go make popcorn, I turned to Baljeet.

"What would you do if he looked you in the eye right now and told you he was in love with Isabella?"

"Eh… uh… if—if you do not pay attention, you will die," he half-heartedly gestured his controller toward the screen.

"Please, I could do this with my eyes closed. World-ranked gaming champion, remember?"

Baljeet sighed. "I was only trying to help."

"I thought that's what you were doing when you helped Phineas realize I was 'helping Isabella make him jealous.'"

He cringed. "Listen, Ferb, I am sorry about that. I did not even realize… but you cannot blame me for thinking that, not when you kept all of this secret."

Well fell back into silence. He was fidgety and nervous, clearly worried I was mad at him. I wasn't. Annoyed, yes, but only by his ridiculous attempts to steer the conversation tonight. I couldn't be mad at him. This was my mess. My bed to sleep in. I couldn't fault him for one ounce of this.

I took glances to study his profile in between blasting monsters.

"You clearly have something you want to say," I observed. "Just say it."

"It… I just… it is difficult to…" He took a deep breath. "Is it true?"

I almost smiled. "There are many truths to which I have become aware, 'Jeet, but you've caught me; I was indeed planning on changing my hair style. What gave it away?"

He stared at me like he couldn't comprehend a single word I'd said. He looked like he needed a little help.

"Yes, Baljeet, that was a joke."

I'd rendered him speechless. How funny. I had to pause the game, since my partner was paying absolutely zero attention to what was happening on the screen.

"If you have something else to say, you should just say it now, too."

"Who are you, and what have you done with Ferb?"

His jaw was literally hanging open. Although, I do suppose that made sense. I was out of character, at least for what I let everyone see. Isabella was the only one who'd experienced my bantering side before.

He shook his head. "I cannot believe nobody noticed. Have you always been this cheeky?"

I raised my eyebrow at him questioningly, which I thought was definitely within the boundaries of what he was used to from me, but he still shook his head in bewilderment.

"You really _are_ in love with her," he muttered. "I mean, just look at what she has done to you! What has she done to you?"

_Sigh._ Maybe 'just say it' was something I should cut from my linguistic repertoire.

"Do not deny it, Ferb. It is obvious."

I wasn't planning on denying it. I was beyond that. I was planning on covering it up.

"If it is so obvious, you would have figured it out without your girlfriend's help. If it was obvious, Phineas would have figured it out during that very pointed conversation you started. But don't worry; I won't deny it."

He faltered. "You… you will not?"

"No. But it doesn't matter, Baljeet. They are together." He opened his mouth to say something, but I pushed forward. "They are together. They are together, and you figuring this out doesn't change that fact. It doesn't change how either of them feel, and that is why you are not going to say a single word."

"That's your job," he countered. "You have to tell him!"

"I can't. I came into tonight knowing that, and after that conversation—courtesy of your questions—that fact has been solidified. Phineas thinks he can't compete with me. This would destroy him. I'm not saying a word, and neither are you. I won't destroy their relationship."

I took a deep breath. My voice had risen, which was something I'd never had to watch out for in the past. It was a good question Baljeet posed; _what had Isabella done to me?_ Really, this would all be simpler if I just went back to not talking. I was never supposed to be vocal—only for her.

Only a few more words, and this conversation would be finished. I would end it.

"You are not going to tell him, Baljeet, and I won't either. This _will_ remain secret, and things will be just like they were always supposed to be. Now pick up your controller. We don't want my brother to wonder why we're no farther in the game than when he left us."

After staring at me for five seconds, utterly stunned by my bluntness, he did as I said. I unpaused, and the matter of Isabella was dropped—at least until Phineas came back. He bounded into the room with a large bowl of popcorn in his hands.

"So, I was thinking…" he began, which was always an interesting premise when it came to my brother. "Baljeet, you said Irving 'wants anything either Flynn-Fletcher wants.' So…" he wagged his eyebrows at me mischievously, "who else would he want?"

Wait, was he seriously…?

"Only Isabella," Baljeet breathed, and suddenly I couldn't. What had I just said! I… he… oh, having more people know about what happened with Isabella spelled disaster! Absolute disaster! It only made it more and more difficult to keep everything from falling apart!

"Only Isabella?" Phineas asked, looking at me inquisitively. I kept my eyes to the screen, but surprisingly my brother laughed. "Wow, Ferb, for such a ladies man, I'd have thought you'd be crushing on _somebody._ You're just full of surprises tonight."

I smirked.

Sometimes—it was rare, but it did indeed happen—the planets would align. There would be a blue moon. Laws of nature would be broken. Something extraordinary. This was one of those moments.

I was absolutely and unquestionably pleased that my genius brother could be so dense.

* * *

><p><em>RR please!_

_Still dramatic, bit a smidge lighter too. I had to laugh at the idea of Phineas and Ferb going back and forth, then Baljeet sneezing and interrupting. I just had to._

_And I've been trying to work on character development. I wanted dynamic characters. Obviously Iz has changed… that's obvious, but Ferb's changes have been more subtle (up to now). Struggling with ways to step out of Phineas' shadow and find his own way. Talking and connecting more. I want to give him a hug ^.^_

_So I've been working hard to keep this story completely based on the show. Which is to say… no OC's, no movies that are in the real world (even though I did parody Star Wars with my titles of the Space Adventure movies), and no outside products, etc. Only what is within the PnF universe (which is why namedropping Marvel was ok; Povenmire and Marsh already established it was the same universe)._

_Based on this premise, I kept the game system and video game nameless, but I went with a game I always played with my brother. Cookie or hug or something to those who can figure out the video game they're playing in this chapter! I wasn't discreet XD My family owns their own small-time video game store, so I'm quite the nerd._

_Next chapter is a lovely(?) chat (fight?) with some fiery Fireside Girls… which is redundant, but you know what I'm getting at! Review please :)_

_Love, Lilly-Belle_


	39. Defiant

_Hey! Forgot to do this last time. Came across a new Ferbella story you might like. It's called _Not My Cup of Tea, _by Haly-Pooh! Enjoy!_

_Sadly, no one recognized the game they were playing. It was a Super Nintendo, and they were playing Zombies Ate My Neighbors._

_The Story upload thing wasn't working for me. I had to copy-and-paste this in, which got rid of all of my line breaks, italics, and bolds (major headache). If not for that issue, you guys actually would have had this yesterday!_

_Oh, and I'm sorry if any of you guys are particular fans of Holly; the choice was arbitrary. You'll see what I mean..._

_Anyhoo, I hope your day is fabulous. Enjoy!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Phineas and Ferb._

* * *

><p>CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE:<p>

Defiant

**ISABELLA**

"Would now be a bad time to tell you that I've talked to Baljeet about this?" Ginger muttered in my ear, and I clenched my teeth. Of course she would tack that on right now. Really, it was a genius move on her end; I had bigger fish to fry.

"Izzy, you got some 'splaining to do!" Adyson huffed in a mock-Cuban accent.

All my girls looked scandalized—not that I could blame them. At minimum, they'd just heard Ginger declare that I was in love with Ferb, followed by a completely unintentional and embarrassing outburst from me, where I proclaimed pitifully that I didn't deserve the perfection that was the older Flynn-Fletcher boy.

Open mouth. Insert foot.

What I didn't expect, however, was their reaction. Gretchen and Katie appeared mostly shocked, but Adyson, Holly, and Milly actually looked angered by what they heard.

"It's… it's not what it sounds like," I tried, but no one was convinced. I'd never been the best liar.

It was thus that I watched my social life unravel before me; I told them the story. They didn't get all the details Ginger did, not by half. But they got the basic information about all the times Ferb had comforted me over the years, how close we'd gotten, how he'd kissed me one day, and how things started developing from there.

I refuted the validity of Baljeet's jealousy theory, but explained how we'd somehow rationalized and gone along with it anyway. I tried to express how corralled I felt, how I got swept away into a relationship with Phineas, how I was in it before I even realized it, how I… I almost felt trapped, because now Ferb wasn't really speaking to me and was super distant, and Phineas was ridiculously sweet, and how I didn't know what to do, or how to handle it.

Most of the faces softened by the time I was done, but… but the anger was still there. Why was the anger still there?

"Isabella, you've in love with Phineas!" Adyson drawled, and the other girls nodded.

I felt like I'd been slapped. I almost laughed. "Did you not listen to a word I just said?"

"Yeah, but Iz… did you?" Holly responded, shaking her head. "I mean, in love with _Ferb?_ I think you took one too many knocks on the head helping them out this summer."

This caused a new wave of defensiveness to flare up inside of me. Defensiveness, and something else. Something that felt like defiance. "Why would you say his name like that? He's amazing! And I did not hit my head!"

"Must have been all the paint fumes then," she giggled, but I did not appreciate her joke.

I took a step forward, opening my mouth to shoot back a quick retort, when Gretchen stepped forward.

"Whoa, whoa," she said, her hands coming up in a soothing gesture. She looked pointedly at Holly. "Let's not fall to insults. And Chief," she looked back at me, "try not to get too defensive. We have to talk about this."

Easier said when she wasn't the one being attacked, but I took a deep breath.

"Think about it Isabella," Adyson tried again, taking my wrist and pulling me to Katie's living room. Everyone took spots on the giant sectional that curved around the room. "You've been in love with Phineas Flynn for twelve years. You'd never kissed, never even batted your eyelashes at another guy. You were starved for that kind of attention, and when a boy showed you some you—"

"That's not true!" I gasped, taken aback by how ludicrous that was. "I was asked out plenty of times at school! Plenty of attention. I'm not the type of girl who'll just go with a guy just because he'll give her the time of day! Under that notion, any of those guys would have—"

"Any _decent_ guy," Adyson corrected, waving her hand dismissively.

"Better than decent," Milly chimed in. "I mean, he was your best friend, supportive, handsome."

I couldn't believe where they were going with this. Were they really going where I thought they were going?

"You've waited so long for Phineas to act that way towards you, and you were disheartened," Adyson cooed, her voice taking on a more sympathetic tone. "We understand that. It makes total sense that when Ferb kissed you, you'd think you were in love with him."

"I didn't," I shot back. "I didn't _just_ think that. It wasn't, _oh, this boy kissed me, I must be in love now!_ I fought against it, I denied it, I... I—Ginger will tell you!" I turned to my Japanese friend, who looked massively uncomfortable to have been so suddenly put on the spot. _Good;_ she was the one who got me into this mess.

She gulped. "It is true. She freaked out at first, afraid of how to turn Ferb down. Then it progressed. Still, she denied and she denied, claiming to be in love with Phineas. Heck, she's still denying it. I can assure you it wasn't immediate."

"So… what are you saying?" Milly asked, and I groaned.

"I—god, I don't know. I think I'm saying… I'm saying that he was always there. That _this_ was always there, and I never even realized it. I never even… and I was always so distracted by—"

"Oh Isabella, be reasonable," Holly cut back in. "You are not in love with Ferb! At best he was there for you a lot, and you developed this infatuation with him. You're with Phineas. You're _finally_ with Phineas! Why would you put that at risk because of some two-month old… _fling?_"

Oh, she chose the wrong words. Those were wounding, like she ripped them right from Ferb's mouth.

"It wasn't a fling," I said, but I was still trying to convince myself of that; I wasn't even near the point where I could convince the others.

"Isabella, it's wrong to keep deluding yourself with this crazy idea that you love Ferb when you're with Phineas," Adyson chastised, and this time I couldn't keep my laugh in.

"Really? _Really,_ Adyson? _You're_ going to start preaching to me about right and wrong when it comes to relationships?"

"And what is that supposed to mean?" she stood up huffily, but Gretchen reached up and pulled her back down.

"I don't see how you can criticize me on right and wrong with relationships when you were the one lying to your mom so you could sleep with a jerk who was cheating on you!"

Oh that was mean… I shouldn't have said that. But she shouldn't be attacking me either!

I put my head in my hands.

"Everyone calm down," Katie said, speaking on the matter for the first time. "Deep breath. Let's let all the personal jibes go. Isabella, no one's attacking you, we're just concerned that—"

"You are attacking me," I clarified. "You keep telling me what I do and don't feel. How do you know? How do you know I love Phineas? Because I've _told_ you? What if I told you I loved Ferb? Would you believe me? Would that make no difference?"

"We've _seen_ you with Phineas. _That's_ how we know you're in love with him!"

"Okay, fine. You've seen me with Phineas. On that premise, you still have no room to talk! You haven't seen me with Ferb. You haven't—"

"We've seen you with Ferb plenty of times, and—"

"No! No you haven't! You haven't _seen_ me with Ferb. You haven't even seen _Ferb._ Not the real Ferb. You've never spent a single minute talking to him, let alone the hours and hours I have! _Why?_ Why are you guys so against this idea?"

I was met with silent and surprised faces. No one spoke for an entire minute, but I needed them to. I needed one of them to speak, just one.

Gretchen stood up.

"Well I can't speak for anyone else," she sighed, pushing her glasses up on her nose, "but I'm not against the idea." She crossed the room, sitting down next to me. Her arm wrapped around my shoulders. "Please don't cry, Chief."

_Don't cry? _

My hand shot up to my cheeks. When had I started crying? During that last outburst? Stupid, stupid over-productive tear ducts! I hated how easily they'd let that salty betrayal of my frustrations trail down my cheeks.

"You've convinced me," Katie spoke up, shrugging off a glare she received from Holly. "What?" she addressed Adyson and Milly too. "Isn't it obvious that she does? Isabella was the most sought after girl in school. She could have any guy, but not one of them could make her even flinch from Phineas. If one has gotten her to not only denounce her feelings for Flynn, but also _argue_ with us—us, her troop—over him… well, that's the only convincing I need."

I stared at her, my expression morphing into one that I hoped was appreciative. That was three on my side—even if Ginger and I were a little shaky right now. I just struggled grasping _why_ the other three were so against Ferb and I.

"Listen, Isabella, I'm not trying to say you don't have feelings for him," Adyson continued. _Seriously? What would it take?!_ "It's clear after both that outburst and the one from the kitchen that you have feelings for him. We just want you to be careful."

"It does seem like a sudden turn-around," Milly mumbled. She seemed abashed to go against me, but convinced of her opposing side all the same. "I mean, you have to understand why we'd be confused about this. You've 'been in love,'" she made air quotes, "with Phineas for years. Then suddenly, in two months, you've fallen for his brother?"

"Yeah," Holly agreed. "I mean, you've known Ferb for almost as long as Phineas. Why the sudden change? How could two months suddenly change the past twelve years? It seems… too flighty."

I pulled my knees to my chest, sighing into my legs.

"I know, girls. Don't you think I'm perfectly aware of that? I thought—hell, I even _hoped—_it was flighty. That it was some fling, and I could go with Phineas now that he was interested. And I've tried. These past two weeks I've tried._ Ferb and I were just a fling. Ferb and I were fleeting. I am in love with Phineas, not Ferb._ I've told myself these things over and over. I keep telling myself, and keep telling myself… but…"

"But you can't stop thinking about Ferb," Ginger giggled excitedly, bouncing a little. "I knew it! I knew you've been rationalizing your relationship with Phineas! Ferb is all you've been able to think about, isn't it! Isn't it!"

Everyone stared at her, and she cleared her throat. Her cheeks turned a little pink, but she crossed her arms noncommittally.

"What? When I ship, I ship."

Adyson took a deep breath. "Look, let's put all animosity of the past ten minutes aside. Let's forget all the attacking and counter-attacking and hostility. I… I still can't say 'I ship.'" She eyed Ginger a little distastefully, which I thought was a smidge hypocritical; there was a fangirl within us all. "I can't say I really support the idea. I think you and Phineas are perfect together."

I guess coming into this I'd been spoiled. The only person I'd told of Ferb and I's… relationship—insert question mark here—was Ginger, and she'd wholeheartedly supported it. Those that knew on Ferb's end, which was Candace and Linda, were encouraging too. I guess I should have known it was implausible to have everyone support it.

Afterall, there was a reason everyone thought 'Phinabella' was inevitable. There was a reason there was that stupid bet. There was a reason everyone thought Phineas and I were perfect, and there was a reason why everyone would have difficulty believing I wasn't in love with him. There was a reason for all of this.

Which… which was the reason Ferb had been avoiding me. It was why he never made a stance for me. It was why he shut me out, why he was so cold.

_Sometimes we all needed someone who wouldn't let us pull away. _

He'd never let me pull away. Never, not once all those years. But I'd let him.

That thought hit me square in the chest. It hit me hard.

"Girls, what do I do?"

"Listen, Iz, I don't really think you want to ask us that," Holly said. "You won't like our answer."

Katie put her hands on her hips. "Holly!"

"What? I'm just telling her the truth. I can't see you with Ferb. I mean, I don't know the first thing about him. I like him, but he was always sort of… weird. He never spoke, he never did much of anything—"

"Oh, besides _build every single amazing contraption we've seen all these years_," I scoffed. I couldn't believe she'd just said that. "Yeah, that's not doing 'much of anything' at all."

"Point taken," she said pacifyingly. "I get where you're coming from there. I just meant… well, Iz, you've got the prime deal here. Are you sure you want to go and screw it up?"

"Prime deal?" I stared confusedly at Holly, but it was Adyson who spoke next.

"You're with _Phineas,"_ she exclaimed, stating the obvious like… well, it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Genius, sun shines from him, Phineasland fantasies, one thing you desired—you know, _that_ Phineas!"

"I… I know, but—"

"Come on, Isabella!" Holly cut me off. "Clearly you're in a relationship with the better brother, so why on earth would you—"

I was on my feet, my hands clenched at my sides. _Better_ brother? I was so appalled I couldn't even form words, but the sudden motion was enough to bring the entire room to a deathly silence.

Gretchen stepped in front of me.

"Holly always says stuff without thinking," she blurted out. "You know that. You know she didn't mean it."

"She better not mean it," Katie agreed. "That was a really mean thing to say, even if none of us know Ferb as well as we know Phineas."

Holly was clearly in _Backtrack Mode_, standing up and reaching out to me. "I didn't mean better as in _better_-better. I just… I meant better for _you._ You know, relationship-wise."

It was clear to all of us that it was a cover-up—something to ease the pure amount of fury bubbling up inside of me. It would be one of those _nice save_ moments if… if not for the fact that…

"That's what you guys think, isn't it?" I breathed. "You guys think Phineas is the better brother? What, just because he talks more? Don't get me wrong, Phineas is wonderful. He's wonderful in every way, but… have any of you guys ever _tried_ to have a conversation with Ferb? I somehow got through; we've talked hundreds of times. I'm sure with just the tiniest effort, every single one of you could have too. You easily could have, but you never did."

The girls all hung their heads; they knew I was right. I didn't want to shame them. That wasn't what I was trying to do at all. I just wanted them to understand. Although, one of my girls did not look down trot at all. Ginger was smiling—full-blown, ear-to-ear smiling. I gave her an inquisitive look.

"What? I'm excited," she laughed, shaking her head. "I've been trying to get you to admit all of this since day one, and now look at you! All defiant and fiery. Had I known pushing you to Phineas was all it took, I'd have done that a month ago."

I blinked at her. And just like that, I felt my argumentative spirit die away. I really was all over the place.

"It's… so hard," I sighed.

I ran my hands through my hair, and my girls immediately caught on to my shift. Gretchen stood up and put her arm around me again, giving me a gentle squeeze. I always knew she was nurturing, but it was rare for _me_ to be the recipient of her care. Her loyalty radiated from her, which soothed the ache from Holly's words.

"It's okay, Chief."

"Is it? I mean… Adyson has a point; I'm with Phineas, and he's one of my best friends, and… and our relationship is working. It's _Phineas,_ so I have no reason to complain. I—"

Ginger groaned loudly, but Katie nudged her, quieting her with a glare.

"I'm not unhappy," I continued, trying to gloss over the interruption. "How am I supposed to go up to him and tell him I'm breaking up with him to give things a go with his brother? With his _brother—god,_ just saying that sounds wrong. So wrong."

My acknowledgement of this brought with it a swing in the room. Adyson's animosity lessened, and Milly's all but vanished. To them, I was now speaking sense.

"Sweetheart," Adyson began, and her tone was crushing; how had I sunk so low? How had I gotten to the point where Adyson—_Adyson,_ the absolute worst with relationships—would talk to me like that? Like some psychotic, wounded child. She seemed to realize this, though, and adjusted her voice accordingly.

"You're clearly conflicted. You're clearly confused. And yes, if you jump to some rash decision because of what happened with Ferb, Phineas will be crushed. I think you know that."

I would breathe if my heart wasn't in my throat. She'd hit the nail right on the head, sending it straight through my lungs.

"I don't want to hurt Phineas," I agreed, finding myself falling back down on the couch. "He's… he's so—the last thing I wasn't is to hurt him."

"That's all that will happen if you keep chasing this crazy fantasy with Ferb," Holly muttered, and Katie shoved her shoulder.

"Holly, maybe you should stop talking."

"What? If she didn't want my opinion, she shouldn't ask for it!"

"But you're not helping!" my blonde friend shot back. It looked like they were about to go at it, and I knew I had to cut this off.

"Girls, please don't start fighting. Please." My legs were back against my chest, and it helped to have something to hold onto. One deep breath, and I turned to the only person who's opinion I could really rely on to be completely for my own good. "Gretchen, what do you think?"

She looked at me with a surprised expression. Her hand shot up, pushing her glasses back up her nose again.

"What?"

"Please, you're the most level-headed one here. I want to know what you make of all this."

She sighed and sat down next to me again. "It's a strange amalgamation of what you want to hear and what you don't." I nodded. That sounded about right. "I think… whatever happened with Ferb is more than 'some fling.' You've both changed so much—some of which has just recently become axiomatic, and even more of which is beyond any of our ability to see, because we simply haven't been exposed to the relationship enough to even begin to comprehend.

"Which makes this quite the arduous situation. You _are_ with Phineas." She took a deep breath; this was clearly the part that was probably not what I wanted to hear. "After all of this time wanting Phineas, I think you owe it to both yourself and him to see if it could work. Everything is exceedingly intense right now, and I think you should give things time to cool off before you make any decisions."

But what if Ferb was hurting in the meantime? Did none of them consider that? This was worse than a lose-lose thing; this was a hurt-hurt thing. One way hurt Ferb, the other way hurt Phineas. And thus, both ways hurt me. Ha! As if I hadn't been depressed enough going into that thought. No, it was a hurt-hurt-hurt thing. Yay…

"Sounds to me like she's saying you shouldn't break up with Phineas," Holly said—because I hadn't already caught on to that fact. Thanks, Holly. She was really irking me tonight.

"And what about Ferb? He just keeps on avoiding both me and Phineas?"

"That's his choice, Isabella," Holly returned. "You can't control that. You can only control what you do." Huh. That was actually a decent thing to say. Maybe I should try to reign in my frustration at her a little bit so— "Of course, if he's not mature enough to handle this, then—"

"Holly!" I was on my feet again, all of my frustration swooping back in ferociously. "Why do you have to keep going with the insults?"

"It wasn't an insult," Adyson defended her. Why was Adyson defending her? "I mean, she has a point. Ferb can handle himself. You shouldn't break up with Phineas because you feel guilty about hurting Ferb."

"I—you—but I—_what?_" I spluttered. God, by now how could they think this was some guilt complex with Ferb?! My mind was fried! We kept going in circles. Maybe this was pointless. Obviously talking about it would help nothing.

And somehow I'd ended up on the exact opposite side of the spectrum from where I started—from rationalizing with Phineas to defending with Ferb. It was a total flip-flop. Or… maybe it was a realization of where I needed to be.

"Okay, show of hands," I called, and even thought it was a casual sleepover, my troop straightened to attention. Old habits die hard, I guess. "How many of you think I _shouldn't_ break up with Phineas?"

Holly's hand shot up. Adyson and Milly followed her. Two seconds. Katie grudgingly raised her hand. I couldn't feel my heart pounding anymore. I looked to Gretchen last, who raised her hand half way, tilting it back and forth in an indecisive gesture. Wow.

"Really?" I whined. How could that be possible? "Am… am _I_ the crazy one here?"

Holly opened her mouth, but Katie's hand automatically flew out and covered it.

"Isabella," she soothed, "you're not crazy, you're just confused. We just all think maybe you need a little more time before—"

I laughed. It probably didn't help with the _you're not crazy_ portion of their statement, but I couldn't help it.

I laughed because Ferb had been right. He'd said so many times that this was inevitable. So many times he'd saddened when mentioning the 'Inevitable Phinabella.' I understood now. I saw just what he saw…

And I realized I wasn't sure if anyone else would ever understand.

That pushed against me, but I was tired of being broken. I was tired of this, because… because I knew what I wanted, but just not how to get there. I didn't know if I had the heart to do what it took to get there. Especially… especially knowing this. Knowing just where everyone would fall on the issue. Because I didn't think I could ever get them to understand.

Ginger would support me, and Gretchen would be loyal, but in the eyes of nearly everyone I knew, I'd be betraying everything they'd ever wanted. I'd be betraying their long-awaited and precious Phinabella. But I was so tired of being broken.

"So be it," I laughed, standing up. That defiance from before surged back through my veins. "So be it. I don't ever want to use the word inevitable again. Never again. I've decided I hate that word."

"Isabella, what—"

I walked straight out of the room and to the kitchen. I'd already grabbed an empty cup, filled it with water, and began drinking it before any of my girls caught up to me. I could tell they were alarmed, but this was the best I'd felt since we'd started this damn conversation.

"Isabella, do we need to be concerned?"

"No," I replied coolly. "Not at all. Look, we don't have to talk about this anymore. I've realized there's nothing else I can say."

"Isabella…"

"No, guys. Really, it's fine." I pulled out my phone as means of distraction, but what I saw made my blood stop in my veins. I'd never turned my phone off silent from the ceremony earlier, and what I saw on the screen made my lungs reject all air.

** Missed Calls (4): Mama. **

**Incoming Messages (11): Mama. **

My finger shakily slid across the screen, reading through all the messages of my name with question marks, demands to be called, and finally, at the bottom, the statement that my mom was on her way to get me. Then I realized my troop had been worriedly repeating my name, and I stuck my phone out for them to see.

There was a knock on the door, and I looked at the time stamp on the last message; twenty-two minutes ago, which was a little less than how far Katie's house was from mine.

"Your mom's here? Why is your mom here?"

"It's 10:42. Isabella, what's—"

I pushed past them, heading for the door. I unlocked and flung it open. Somehow I was surprised to find my mom standing there. Maybe in the past ten seconds I'd managed convinced myself that the messages were a lie. The only time I'd been picked up from a sleepover early was when Grampapa died, back when I was eleven.

"Mama?" I felt my troop file in behind me. "Mama, what's going on?"

"Hola, Isa. Hello girls." She had a smile on her face, but I knew it wasn't real. It was one of those falsely cordial smiles. An obligatory smile. "I'm sorry, Isa, but we need to go. We will talk in the car, okay?"

She reached out and took my hand, obviously not wanting to get into it in front of the girls. I tried to swallow, tried to destroy the dam forming in my throat, building up my worry.

"Ok, Mama," I agreed, turning back toward the house. "Let me just grab—"

"Ahora, Isa, leave your stuff. You can get it some other time. Ven conmigo, Mija. Vámanos."

That was all it took. I turned back around on my heel, muttering a farewell to my confused troop. When we made it to the car, Mama didn't turn around to head in the direction of home. She was driving toward the main roads to take us downtown.

"Mama, what's going on?" Her smile trembled, and she shook her head. That dam in my throat was about to overflow with panic. "Hablame. Porfa, Mama."

Her hand fell to my leg and she gave it a gentle squeeze. She took her eyes off the road for just a second to give me a reassuring look, but I could see tears in her eyes.

Just a short time ago, I'd decided I was tired of being broken.

But that was before this.

* * *

><p><em>RR, please!_

_Okay, so I'm so pale I could get moon burns, but I did take some spanish in high school. The spanish bits from the mom were, now, come with me, and let's go. Isabella said, talk to me, and a slang version of please. I'm far from fluent, so if I messed up (other than accents; my computer struggles with those) please let me know. No flames for my lack of bilingualism, but simple correction, and I will fix it ^.^_

_Tick, tick, tick, tick… boom._

_;)_

_~Lilly-Belle_


	40. Control

_Hi, guys! Tada! Super quick update! Only because so many of you guys reviewed and begged for a quick update. See, you review and I respond ^.^_

_Oh, and just a special shout out to Zah-Zah Chan, who has been really supportive and read through my work with me! Thank you, darling!_

_Haha, sorry to make you guys hate Holly XD I promise the choice was arbitrary. And I wasn't trying to make her friends terrible, but they've all been waiting for Phinabella and can't understand Ferbella. They've never been exposed to it, so don't blame them too much. Poor Izzy, though. I'm mean to her in this one… sorry XD Now you get to see what the emergency was… __And like I said last chapter… __Tick, tick, tick, tick, boom! Enjoy!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Phineas and Ferb._

* * *

><p>CHAPTER FORTY:<p>

Control

**FERB**

Yet another Isabella-free day had passed.

Although, yesterday wasn't typical. Not in the least bit. When we awoke, Baljeet showed us a text he'd received from Ginger. Apparently Vivian had picked Isabella up the night before. Yesterday Phineas had tried to call her, but got no answer. No one was home either, and there wasn't much else we could do. Obviously something was up, but we'd have to wait for them to come to us about it.

Remaining calm was more difficult than I expected. But that was okay, because best friends could worry. I could do that. I could worry. It was within my limits, and thus worry I did.

Phineas insisted on going along with yesterday's plans anyway. I thought maybe we could switch to some sort of Isabella-tracker and find her or something, but I guessed that would have been overreacting. Her phone probably died. They probably had to go visit her cousin, or something, and her phone died. And she forgot her charger. That was all. That had to be all.

Baljeet had hung out with us all day yesterday too, and it became evident early on that he had something he wanted to tell me. He became all fidgety again, making me question how that boy ever kept anything hidden. He was almost as bad at that sort of thing as Phineas.

When we'd finally gotten a moment alone—Phineas had been grabbing some more wood from the garage—Baljeet told me that Ginger told him the rest of the Fireside Girls found out about Isabella and I's… well I didn't think I could call it a relationship. About Isabella and I. That was about all I could say.

Fast forward to today, where I was sitting in my room resisting any negative urges by preoccupying my mind with blueprints.

The irony did not fall short on me.

No one notices a thing when it was developing, but now that Isabella and I were indefinitely over—could you say we even began?—everyone was figuring out about it. Where did that make any sense? Answer: it didn't. It didn't make sense. And it only made everything that much harder.

And for the only details Baljeet could give me to be 'it wasn't pretty'—well, that didn't help either.

_The worst distances aren't physical._

I wished she were here right now; I could make one hell of an argument to the contrary of that statement of hers. Yesterday was hell, a roiling cesspool of worry, apprehension, and nerves. It hadn't gone away today.

But now she was in my head.

_I miss you, Ferb._

She was in my head, and she couldn't be. She couldn't.

Somehow she'd dragged me out of the background, made everyone remember _Ferb_ was part of the picture too. That I had a voice. That I had a place that may not just be right behind my brother, cast against a wall when he shined in the sun. That was what all of this had done, what she had done.

And now I was floundering. Because here I was in the forefront, here I was unmoored from the forgotten boy I used to be, here I was… tangibly and undeniably _here_, but without an anchor. Without her to take my hand and make sure they didn't let me slip under the water again. Or perhaps to make sure I didn't let myself.

_Not you. Ferb._

And I would have been perfectly fine with slipping back again if I hadn't already gotten a feel of what it could be like. To have her look at me and see only me_. _To have her want to know and learn more than just the person who built around my brother's imagination. I'd tasted its sweetness, and now I wasn't sure if I could go back.

But I couldn't go forward either. It was a hellish limbo. One that was largely self-inflicted; I couldn't bring myself to be around her. Not while she was with my brother. It was a recipe for disaster.

I could only hold it all together from a distance.

But even now… I felt my grip slipping. If it wasn't falling apart, then maybe it was me. Maybe I was the one falling apart.

I heard the front door open. Phineas made it home surprisingly early today. No reason to leave my room; if he wanted to talk to me, he could find me himself. There was thud, like he'd maybe tripped up the stairs. He could be so clumsy sometimes, I swear. It was—

Something collapsed against my closed door, and I nearly fell out of my chair. Then I heard the sound of a girl's sobs—too familiar. The second my brain registered this I was at the door, flinging it open. As soon as I did, something slumped to the floor, creating a purple heap crumbled on the carpet.

Oh my god. "Isabella?"

She didn't appear to hear me.

"Isabella?" I tried again, reaching down and finding her shoulder. It felt like there was a miniature earthquake under her skin.

I began pulling her up. She was light enough that I could hold her up with ease, but it was like she was in shock. It wasn't until I shook her hard, snapping her name one more time, that her tear-stained eyes even focused on me.

"P-P-Pinky—Pinky—Pinky," she dissolved against me, catching me completely off guard. It was like all the muscles in her body had suddenly joined a vacation club. She was so unsteady I had to practically carry her over to the edge of my bed, listening as she muttered her dog's name.

"What?"

She burst out into a new wave of sobs, her fingers clutching clumps of my shirt inside shaking fists. The cries trembling and tossing from her throat left no room for words, and I was too stunned to say much of anything either.

I… I hadn't allowed myself to be this close to her in a while.

Instead of calming down like she usually did when I held her, her sobs only got wilder. I'd seen her cry dozens of times, but there was something different about this. These weren't tears of heartbreak, confusion, panic, or any of that sort. These tore from the center of her being in raw, serrated bursts of salty liquid.

This was grief. Pure, unrestrained pain.

_Oh no._

"Isabella, I'm so sorry," I breathed, trying not to cringe at how hollow it sounded. It wasn't enough. Nowhere near enough. "What—?"

"C-ca—ca… ca," she spluttered hysterically, but I understood.

Her dog died. Her dog that she'd had since she was three years old, her dog that helped her never to fixate on the fact that her father left her, her dog that she looked after every day. And not in a peaceful veterinary put-down, but in probably the most gruesome way known to pet owners: hit by a car.

"Ca… C-ca—" she cried, only to break down into quiet screams of grief. It was odd to think of screams as quiet, but that's what these were. They were so anguished, and for the first time, I didn't know what to do for her. I didn't know what would make this okay.

"Shhhhh." I ran my hand down the length of her hair. "I understand. Shhh. Try to calm down, love. You have to breathe."

It took some time before she could do either of those things to even the remotest proficiency. At best, her sobs morphed into two silent, dejected streams of stunned mourning.

What she did next—I must have been falling apart. I must have been imagining it, because… because… _nothing_ was happening between Isabella and I. _Nothing._

But she pulled herself onto my lap, burying her face in my neck. Her eyelashes painted her tears along my pulse, and her staggered breaths made my insides tremble.

I didn't know how long I could hold her like this. I sure as hell knew I _shouldn't_ hold her like this, dead dog or not. This… this was too intimate, too dangerous. This was crossing some boundary we'd never had the luxury of fully establishing.

"Ferb, I—Pinky's g-gone, and I d-don't… know—my whole l-life, I…"

She broke down again, heartbroken whimpers slipping from her throat between her too-infrequent breaths. She clung to me in a way she never had before. In a way she _shouldn't._

Oh, this was dangerous. So, so dangerous. I could feel my control deteriorating, my composure dwindling, and she had neither coming into this. This could only spell disaster. Was it okay to panic? Was that justified right now? I felt like it was. I could panic. At least panicking would distract me from her proximity.

Her proximity… I closed my eyes, trying to control my emotions. How the hell did she end up on my lap, again? She shifted, and… oh god, this was damn near unbearable. Thank god she was crying right now, because otherwise—

Oh man. I just won the _Worst-Person-of-the-Decade_ award for that thought… _good thing she's sobbing her heart out; now I don't have to worry about not being able to restrain myself. _It was terrible! Absolutely terrible!

Maybe this was a good thing; I focused on how terrible I was, and it distracted me from… how terrible I was. Good god, what was happening to me? To my mental state? This was not okay! Nothing about this was okay, and nothing would ever make it okay!

Here I was, about to shift this tragedy, about to drag myself into it and make it about me.

And she thought I was so selfless.

Ah, this new dose of self-loathing worked better than the last. I managed to hold her until her most recent wave of sorrow ebbed again, despite the decent chunk of time it took. Her sniffles were the only sound in the room, her trembling the only movement.

After a while, she seemed to gain control over herself again. She rubbed her eyes, then wove her hand back around my neck. Her fingers ghosted through the bottom of my hair and my back almost arched so I could follow the touch. She clung to me so tightly I could feel every rise and fall of her chest.

Then she sniffled and snuggled even closer—which I honestly hadn't realized was possible. I could feel the millimeters between her lips and my neck in her dwindling gasps; one shuddering breath, and they brushed my pulse. It wasn't intentional, but I inhaled sharply, my hands tightening in her hair and on her back.

"Bella—"

"Hold me," she whimpered. "Please, just hold me."

I was. But that was the problem. I was holding her in a way no best friend should hold another. Not in our situation, at least.

And god, I wanted her. I wanted her so much.

"Bella, you have to go," I blurted out.

I moved her off me, scooting as far away as the bed would allow.

Unfortunately, in action, it was more of dumping her on her butt beside me and springing away from her, but I wasn't thinking straight. I couldn't focus on the sting she'd feel from my terseness; I only knew I had to get away from her.

"W-what?" she whispered, staring up at me in surprise.

Drawing on the unpleasant practice I'd had the past couple weeks, I voided my face of emotion. I tried to take my hands away from her, but the second I did, she started melting into me again. I couldn't have that. I couldn't be touching her right now. I just couldn't.

"You have to go," I repeated, mustering every ounce of my will to keep my voice controlled.

"But… what do you mean?" she whispered, her fingers clinging tighter to mine. "Ferb, I—I need you."

_Oh. _That hurt. It was like she was poking my heart. Maybe with a sharp stick. A very, _very _sharp stick. Or maybe stabbing. Stabbing was a good verb. Stabbing fit.

"No. You don't." If she touched me for a second more, I would go insane. I sprang from my bed, jumping to the window, where I'd have an excuse not to look at her. Not to see those big, pleading eyes. "You don't need me. This… this is what you have a boyfriend for."

The room was dead silent for precisely thirty-three seconds, and it was so unbearable that I had to look back. It was a mistake.

She looked like I'd punched a hole in her—a jagged, infected wound, right through her core. If I looked closely, I could almost see bits and pieces of her falling out, clinging to her skin before collapsing on the floor.

I couldn't stand it, but _this_ wasn't my job. It couldn't be my job. I couldn't—I wasn't her boyfriend.

"You have to go."

My back was turned to her again, but I could practically hear her seams tearing from here. This time I refused to look back at her, though. She _had _to leave. She had to—

Frigid fingers wrapped my arm, and I nearly jumped out of my skin. I turned to find her suddenly there, suddenly in front of me, and my throat became the Sahara. My tongue cowered dryly against the roof of my mouth. I couldn't think with her this close—couldn't think over my heart pounding in my head.

I was always so controlled, always poised to a fault. I didn't know how to handle… not being able to handle something. And I didn't know how to handle Isabella right now. I didn't know how to handle how she made me feel. I was supposed to be expressionless. I was supposed to be stone. I was not supposed to become putty in a girl's hands just because she bats her eyelashes over big, sad eyes. I was _not_ supposed to depend on anyone emotionally, to become this attached.

And she was my brother's girlfriend.

She was my brother's girlfriend.

_She was my brother's girlfriend!_

That was it. Something inside of me broke. All of that frustration and confusion… My veins flared with a very foreign sensation—rage.

I was angry. Furious!

How dare she come to me with this! How dare she put me in this position knowing perfectly well what she did to me! With the overbearing fact that she wasn't mine. It wasn't fair. This was why she had a boyfriend! This was why she had _Phineas!_

She should be hanging on _his_ arm right now.

And she damn well knew that! She knew it!

"Leave," I commanded, avoiding her eyes. I didn't need to see her anguish, her shock.

"Ferb, I—"

"No, Isabella, you have to leave. Now." I took a step back, trying to turn away from her, but she followed, tagging along to stay in front of me.

"But… but why?"

"I won't do this anymore."

"Won't do this anymore? Ferb, what—"

"I won't do this! I can't—I won't solve every single one of your goddamn problems!"

She recoiled like my skin was fire. Good. She was making my blood boil in so many ways, and I needed some distance from her.

_From Phineas' girlfriend_.

"What?"

"You're a big girl; you can figure it out without me. Sure as hell time you fix your own issues instead of—" I bit my tongue, trying to hold back all the anguish trying to escape my lips. I could feel it on the edge of my mouth, trying to _hurt_. "Leave. Just leave."

"You don't… you don't really mean any of this."

I stormed over to the door, flinging it open. "Try me."

"Ferb—"

"Get out."

"Ferb, I—"

"Get the hell out, Isabella!"

"Why are you being like this?"

"Why are you being so needy?" I shot back. "Phineas couldn't handle it?" Half my brain instantly regretted saying something so pointedly cruel—but the other half was so high on emotions right now that I honestly didn't have a spare shit to give.

"I—"

"Get out. Get the hell out. Now!"

"Ferb, please, I—"

"_You need me_," I spat, shaking my head at her. "But _I_ don't need _this_. I can't do this. Get out! Go find your _boyfriend_."

She stared at me, her eyes pools of terror and astonishment. She seemed incapable of any form of movement, so I relished the opportunity to jar the ability back into her.

"Go!"

She flew out the door. It could have ended there—it _should _have ended there, with her running away balling her eyes out—but my anger carried my feet forward.

"You can't come back!" I yelled, ready to head down the hall and make damn sure she made it out the door—when I was frozen solid in my doorway.

Phineas was standing at the top of the stairs.

And he looked pissed.

* * *

><p><em>RR please! Your reviews bring goodness for us all, as this quick update can show :)_

_And that explosion finally came. My poor darlings. I'm so cruel. It's all going down!_

_I know this one is a smidge shorter, but my next three chapters are each double this length, so I totally make it up to you._

_See you next time… Same Bat time, same Bat channel!_

_Lilly-Belle is out, peace!_


	41. Care

_Hey, everybody! Can you tell that I love you? The response to last chapter broke the record, so I decided to treat you to yet another super quick update!_

_I was very amused by your responses. __Surprisingly, it was pretty half-and-half. Half of you couldn't believe Ferb had done it, and the other half thought he was totally justified. Quite the explosion, huh? It was hard to write, because it's out of character. But don't we all do things that are out of character from time to time? Even the most patient person can snap when applied with too much pressure. My poor characters… I'm cruel to them._

_And it's difficult. It's hard to have blustering Ferb or angry Phineas because that isn't their character whatsoever! It's hard to write and it's hard to see. But that doesn't mean it is beyond their capability. I hope Ive captured that alright ^.^_

_Enjoy!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Phineas and Ferb._

* * *

><p>CHAPTER FORTY-ONE:<p>

Care

**PHINEAS**

It was kind of sad that my mornings were occupied as of late, but I couldn't complain. I loved working with my dad, and I was always done around ten—or even a little earlier, like today. I still had plenty of time for inventions and summer fun.

I'd had the thought of surprising Ferb today. I thought we could jump-start our plans. He'd been working all the time on blueprints, but he never told me what for. I was planning on making them our priority, but that got derailed when I'd received a text message from Mrs. Garcia-Shapiro about twenty minutes ago.

Pinky had been hit by a car. Pinky died. It… I couldn't really process that. I knew Isabella would be a mess, and today we should be there for her. I was going to pick up Ferb, and I figured from there we could go to her house as support.

When I made it home I tossed my shoes to the side of the door. I immediately started up the stairs, but something felt off. I'd only made it to the top when the sound of a raised voice stopped me short.

Now, I'd only ever fought with Ferb once in my life. It was when we were eight years old, and honestly, after all this time, I couldn't even remember what the fight had been about. I could only recall that it had been pretty bad. Ferb had built an impenetrable fort in the back yard and refused to come out or speak a word until I surrendered—or apologized, or whatever the fight had called for. It had worked; one day, and that was the end of that.

But he hadn't spoken harsh words. He hadn't spoken at all. He most certainly hadn't _yelled_.

"I won't solve every single one of your goddamn problems!"

Whoa. Whoa, whoa, whoa… what the heck did I just walk in on?

"What?" came a second voice, frail and much too familiar. Isabella? What was she—more important question, why was Ferb yelling at her?

Ferb.

Yelling.

At Isabella.

_What?_

"You're a big girl; you can figure it out without me. Sure as hell time you fix your own issues instead of—Leave. Just leave."

"You don't… you don't really mean any of this."

A second later, the door flew open, but my best friend and brother were still out of sight.

"Try me."

What the heck was happening here? I'd never heard my brother so angry. No, that didn't cut it. He was irate. And Isabella seemed like she just wanted support. Why was he being this way to her? Being… mean?

"Ferb—"

"Get out."

"Ferb, I—"

"Get the hell out, Isabella!"

"Why are you being like this?"

"Why are you being so needy? Phineas couldn't handle it?"

Oh, wait a minute…

It took restraint to not go in there right now, since Isabella apparently wasn't going to stand up for herself. Her dog just died! Even if they were fighting about something and Isabella had some fault in it, Ferb sure as heck should not drag it up today!

Something kept my feet where they were, though. Something made me continue to listen. I… had this strange feeling about all of this, and my curiosity got the better of me. Or maybe I was too stunned. Either way, my brain was whirring, trying to make sense of this impossibility.

"I—"

"Get out. Get the hell out. Now!"

"Ferb, please, I—"

"_You need me_. But _I_ don't need _this_. I can't do this. Get out! Go find your _boyfriend_."

Why did he spit that word like that? I couldn't understand… couldn't understand any of this.

Three seconds of silence.

"Go!"

Isabella ran out the door, the evidence of her grief, panic, and turmoil written on every inch of her. She hesitated for half a second when she saw me. I could almost see the spark of realization in her eyes as she registered my eavesdropping. Then I could see the fear, the pain, the anguish, the shock.

It was so brief, but the wave of desolation pouring out of her eyes made me dizzy with vertigo. She was broken. She was absolutely broken, cracked to her core. I reached out to try to take her hand, but she sprang back like I was fire. She looked so scared, like her last anchor had been shaken, like she couldn't trust the world. She ran past me.

That look… it made my insides roil with a strange, livid energy. I didn't want Isabella to ever have that look on her face.

What did my brother do?

But because all that I'd heard apparently wasn't enough, Ferb rounded the corner, shouting, "You can't come back!"

Then he saw me. He stopped dead in his tracks, surprise written across his features. He obviously hadn't expected me to rain on his _I'm Going to be a Jerk_ parade.

The door opened and slammed from below; Isabella was gone.

His forehead crinkled, but his eyebrows rose; _what are you doing here?_

"I finished early," I replied, "but I'm not the one who should be answering questions right now."

He made a few gestures; _how long have you been standing there?_

"Oh no," I laughed, "you were plenty vocal a minute ago when you were yelling at Isabella. You can speak to me now."

Any shock from seeing me was now gone from his features, replaced by a steely coldness I hadn't expected. Actually, I didn't even know my brother's expression could look like that. It was… a little scary, in all honesty.

"I don't have to explain myself to you, Phineas." He turned on his heel, going back into his room. Everything about him—his motions and his words—was exceptionally hostile. He tried to slam his door closed, but I shot forward and stopped it.

"Um, yeah you do," I countered, following him into the space. "You do when you just sent my best friend out of here in tears!"

He laughed, the sound alarmingly sharp and… and irrational. It was missing any of the humor of his usually genial chortle.

"Don't you mean your _girlfriend? _She's not your best friend anymore."

"She's my best friend above all else," I shot back, surprised and a little saddened by how incensed I was becoming. I was never angry, but Ferb never attacked anyone before. I wasn't even entirely sure this was considered attacking, but it felt like it. I felt like I needed to be defensive, not only for Isabella, but… for myself. And I wasn't quite sure why.

"Well good for you!" he leered. "You're just the best boyfriend ever."

It was almost like he was trying to slap me with his words, but because I realized that, I did my best to brush it off. "Ferb, you're not making any sense. Why are you so mad at Isabella? At me?"

"Shove off!"

"No. What's going on?"

"Nothing!"

"Oh please," I groaned. "I'm not _that_ gullible!"

"You can take the same advice I gave Isabella; get the hell out!"

I stared at him.

"Get out, Phineas!" he repeated.

I could only stare some more. This… was so bizarre. So out of character. And that's when I realized something.

"There's something you're not telling me. What is it? What don't I know?"

This seemed to startle him, to sober him up, if only a little. And although I wasn't the most astute or observant when it came to emotions, I could tell that some of this weird anger was starting to boil down into something… that looked like panic.

"I already told you; shove off!" He turned his back to me.

I suddenly had a flashback to Candace from years ago, that one day that she'd watched too many horror movies and thought Ferb was an alien. I now knew what that felt like; the boy in front of me was not acting like my brother.

Ferb never spoke, let along fought. Ferb never crossed me, nor was he ever cross. Ferb was never angry. Most certainly, Ferb never panicked.

When we were twelve he'd fallen off the roof helping our dad and broke his wrist, but he'd remained completely calm the entire time. Two years ago, when we'd been running an errand with Candace we were hit by a drunk driver. Even in the midst of that, he remained cool and composed.

So the fact the he looked panicked now… the questions wouldn't stop.

"What about Isabella could possibly drive you to an argument—no, an _explosion_—like that? And cause you—_you_, Ferb—to give me that look? To now pick a fight with me? What fight with Isabella could possibly make you panic?"

He watched me with an unyielding silence, but I was fine with that. I wasn't finished.

"No, no, no, that's not even it. Most pressing of all, why on earth would you keep secrets from me? Why can't you tell me what's wrong?"

The look on Isabella's face as she ran past me pushed itself back into my mind, and I squeezed my eyes shut. The anger balled up in my stomach again. She needed someone right now, and clearly that someone wasn't going to be Ferb.

"You know what? Don't even bother answering." I turned around, making my way back toward the door.

"Where are you going?"

"To comfort my girlfriend after my brother was a jerk. Isn't that what you wanted to happen? When you were kicking her out of our house, you told her to go find _me,_ didn't you? I'm doing just what you want!"

"Oh of course! Good for you!" He swiped his pillow off the floor and angrily threw it on his bed. "Good! Onward, oh _perfect_ one."

That stopped me just in the doorway.

"Is that what this is?"

"What?"

I turned around, staring down my brother from across the room.

"Is that what this is? Do you have some problem with _me_, Ferb? Because you know I'll talk to you about anything, but I swear… if you snapped at Isabella, _today_ of all days, over something with me, I—"

"You don't know what you're talking about! This is about Isabella. She knows exactly why I yelled at her today. I bet she'd even tell you she deserved it! You have no clue what I'm thinking or why I did anything, so don't go acting like you do!"

"I don't know what's going on between the two of you right now, but to be honest, I'm so mad at you that I don't care, Ferb. No matter what's going on, you do not explode at her like that. You do not send her sobbing from our house, and you do not start throwing our relationship in her face!"

I turned my back to him, crossing my arms. I hated getting angry. I didn't like feeling that I could say something at any given point that was mean-spirited or hurtful. I didn't like how loose my tongue felt to say negative things. But this just needed to be said.

"You don't do what you just did, Ferb, especially when her pet just died. What could possibly make you so mad that you'd blow up at her when she was already so distraught?"

I looked back at my brother. He was seething, his lips pursed and his head slowly moving back and forth—beyond words.

"I meant that as a question," I huffed, perfectly aware that it contradicted what I just said a few moments ago when I was about to leave, but I didn't care. "Why were you so freaking angry that you'd flip out on her like that? That you'd send her out of here sobbing, Ferb? _Sobbing._"

Ferb met my eyes. I realized that I didn't think I'd ever seen him glare before, let alone at me. I resisted the urge to start backing up; I never knew my brother could become so intimidating with just one look.

"Because."

"Because why_?_"

"_Because_!" he blustered back, and I fought to keep my agitation under control.

"Because _why,_ Ferb?"

"I—Because I care, Phineas! I care! Is that what you wanted? Do you magically feel better now? Because I sure as hell don't! So I'll only say this one more time… Get. Out."

I stared at him again, my mind numbed by this outburst. Without a word, I took a step back, clearing his doorway. He slammed the door in my face.

Well. That wasn't even remotely close to what I'd expected. His answer befuddled my mind. Because he cared? That's why he hurt her feelings today? That's why he left her sobbing? That's why he chased her away? _He cared?_

My brain rejected that entire notion. I couldn't wrap my head around it. That… that wasn't something you did when you cared! It made no sense. I mean, why would a friend do that to another—especially in the wake of the death of their pet—because they _cared? _Why would Ferb do that to Isabella? It was one heck of a way to show your friendly support…

But I was going nowhere with Ferb, and staying here for a single second more would only make me angry again. I went down the stairs, not even bothering to throw on shoes since I was just going across the street.

I knocked on the front door. Two minutes and no answer. I rang the doorbell. Same thing. I started pressing the doorbell in quick succession, creating a constant ringing. I was surprised I didn't hear Pinky's annoyed yapping by now, since—

Oh…

Right…

"Go away, Ferb!" Isabella screamed.

Huh… she saw me when she left earlier. I was kind of surprised she automatically assumed Ferb would have run after her. Why would she think that?

"I'm not Ferb," I replied through the wood.

I counted sixteen seconds of silence.

"I… I don't want to see anyone," she whimpered, and I smiled.

"Yes you do."

Four more seconds.

The door opened, and the moment I stepped inside, Isabella fell against me, her sobs from earlier now continuing on my shoulder.

After a minute, I wrapped my arms around her. If it wasn't already obvious, I was not the best with this type of stuff. Crying girls… yeah, I had no experience. To this day, my attempts to cheer up Candace with clown makeup, a comedy club, and the Mix-n'-Mingle machine lived in infamy.

"Um… it's okay." I tried to reassure her, but I was extraordinarily awkward. Not the most convincing or effective.

She continued to cry, so I decided to go with conversation.

"So I suppose you won't tell me what had Ferb so fired up either, huh?"

Crap, that only made her cry harder. She shook her head… so she was in no state to talk about whatever weirdness I'd accidentally walked in on.

In the meantime…

Was I just supposed to stand here until she grew tired of crying? Was I supposed to say something else, or leave it at that? Surely someone had written a manual for Hysterical Girls by now. It would be helpful, because I had no clue where to even begin to make her feel better.

Huh. I had the jarring realization that this was what Ferb did for her. How many times had he held her when she was crying? Had he fixed her when she was broken? Because, well… because I'd hurt her.

Oh.

"That's why you were there today," I sighed, relieved to have at least one answer.

Isabella sniffed and pulled back a little. "W-what?"

"Irving said you always go to Ferb when you're upset. That's why you were there today. That's why you went to him."

She stared at me.

"Never mind." I shook my head. I guess it didn't need to be said. I just felt a little uneasy, and wasn't sure why. But that made sense… she'd gone to him when she was upset like she had for years, and for some reason Ferb picked a fight.

_Go find your boyfriend_.

That was part of what my brother had said. Ferb… picked a fight because he thought she should have come to me instead? But we were all best friends.

And something in my gut told me that wasn't true. It was something else. Thinking about it now gave me a headache, though, and Isabella looked like she could use a distraction too.

"Let's put on a movie," I suggested, but it was like I was talking right through her. She was still so empty, a paper doll in the wind. It didn't look like she even saw me, despite the fact I was right in front of her.

I took her face. "Hey, Isabella?" This jarred her, and she focused on me again. New tears trickled down her cheeks. "Movie?"

Three seconds, then she nodded. I kissed her, and after a moment she kissed me back, but it only made me sad. It was like I could taste how broken she was right now.

How did a few words from my brother do this to her? Could he really have such a massive effect on her? How did he have so much influence that he could completely shut her down?

No… I don't even know why I thought that. Pinky just died! This wasn't about my brother. This wasn't about Ferb.

We hung out the rest of the night, and I did everything I could to distract her from both what happened to Pinky and whatever had caused my brother to go nuts on her. We put on the third _Doonkleberry Finkbat _movie, and she put her head on my lap.

I heard her sniffles, and knew she was crying again, but I could tell she was trying to hide it. I put my hand on her shoulder, my thumb tracing small circles against her skin. I'd never done well with quiet, though.

"You know, I'm sure he wasn't as mad as he came across," I tried.

She was quiet and I thought I wouldn't get a response, but two minutes passed and she proved me wrong.

"N-no. When Ferb's upset he gets quiet." She sniffled. "He p-pretends to be creating things on blueprints, but usually he just ends up doodling some—some random things he saw that day. He takes a breather in his phone booth or he talks to me. He doesn't… he doesn't…"

She fell silent again, and so did I. I actually didn't know how to respond to that. Was this whole _going to each other when upset _thing two-ways? I didn't think Ferb was ever upset without my noticing, but if Isabella showed me anything, it was that I didn't pay as much attention as I should.

She knew more about my brother and how he worked than I would have bet she did. The two of them must have spent more time together than I realized. How could I not have noticed that? Although, perhaps the real question was why that surprised me. I shouldn't be surprised; all three of us grew up together. I just never realized… I never realized everything going on beyond our inventions. All the time they'd spent together behind the scenes.

Or maybe I had some false perception? Some over exaggerated view of it?

The sniffles eventually stopped. Her shoulders rose slowly, and she sighed; she'd fallen asleep. She was still like that by the time the movie was over, but I figured after the day she'd had she should sleep as much as possible.

I watched all the deleted scenes. Then I put on the _The Making of the Stinkbat _special. Followed by the lengthy director's commentary and analysis. It was fascinating to see how they did all they did, and I couldn't help but chuckle at how nerdy I felt right now.

When that was over, I wasn't sure what to do. Thankfully, the TV remote was in reach. I was never much of a TV watcher, but I didn't want to wake her up. I switched over to whatever satellite provider she had, and put on the UNcovery Channel. An episode about Quantum Mechanics was just ending, which was a shame, but one of the only shows I watched was next.

"_Thank you for tuning in to the UNcovery Channel. You're watching an all-new episode of Rrrrr? (In stereo)!"_

Isabella tossed a little, so I turned the volume down, but she was still restless, turning toward me and curling up more. She made a small whimpering sound. I could see little remnants of wetness along her eyelashes and her nose was bright red, making her look like she was crying in her sleep.

I felt so bad for her. I don't know what I'd do if I lost Perry. He was my little buddy, one of my best friends—even if he ran around doing his own thing most days. I would be a wreck if something happened to him, especially if it was in such a gruesome way as what happened with her dog. Hit by a car… I was amazed by how composed she managed to be, tears and all.

But then for Ferb to make everything worse… Picking a fight with her. Condemning her for going to him for support. Throwing me in her face for some reason. Literally chasing her from our house…

_Because he cared._

It was ridiculous. How could someone do something so hurtful and irrational because they _cared?_ That whole paradigm was just as confusing to me as romance.

Huh.

That was an odd thought.

I tended to glomp confusing paradigms together in my brain for pondering later, but this one… was a peculiar correlation. It made the back of my mind tingle with something unfamiliar, something not necessarily pleasant slinking down to my stomach.

Then Isabella tossed again, making a string of sounds in her sleep—none of which were discernable as words. Isabella hardly ever spoke when sleeping, but after the emotional chaos of the day, I wouldn't fault her any unusual behavior. She murmured on a little more.

I laughed under my breath. "What'cha dreaming, Isabella?"

She curled up even tighter, more nonsense coming from her mouth. I listened closely, once again trying to pick out words, but I couldn't. That was too bad; people were always so entertaining when they talked in their sleep.

A year ago, when Buford and Baljeet stayed the night, we'd had an entire conversation with a sleeping Baljeet about how he 'needed the pink lemonade to finish the magic potion.' It was absolutely hilarious. I'd love to get a glimpse into what fantastical dreams Isabella had.

Around twelve minutes later, I got my wish. Isabella's hand gripped the fabric of my shorts, and her eyebrows furrowed as if in concentration. She mumbled out an entire sentence, but I could only catch two words.

The first one was _love._

The second one brought back that strange feeling from before. The second one confused me, and then confused me even further, because I didn't understand why I should feel confused in the first place.

The second one was my brother's name.

_Ferb._

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><p><em>RR please! Reviews are goodness for us all._

_Although the remainder of this week consists of two exams, three essays, a fifty minute presentation, and a ten minute speech. Thus I can't make a promise for an update tomorrow, but it won't be too long. Maybe two or three days. Three would be a max. (And yet… that's really short for this site XD you're welcome)._

_Phineas is so sweet. Which is why this is hard and sad and blarg. But when you fall in love, you fall in love. You can never tell when, or how, or with whom, and it doesn't care about your convenience. Hmmm… maybe I should use that thought process in a future chapter ^.^_

_Speaking of future chapters… the next is my favorite. It was legit the most fun chapter to write in this entire story. I hope it reads that way. Yay!_

_~Lilly-Belle_


	42. Breathe

_By far the most fun to write in this entire story ^.^ Enjoy!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Phineas and Ferb._

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><p>CHAPTER FORTY-TWO:<p>

Breathe

**ISABELLA**

Carpe diem.

It was a new day. A whole new day to be seized.

Seized and wrung by its little quotidian neck.

I awoke with the desperate need to not be awake. I didn't want to be awake. Everything was so much simpler when I wasn't. I could forget about the loss. I could forget about the pain. I could forget about what happened with… with…

But my last day ended with tears; I didn't want to start today with them too.

All of my attempts to fall back asleep were futile. That was _his_ fault too. Well… him and his brother's. If they hadn't gotten my body used to waking up this earlier years ago…

I trudged to my shower, but I couldn't make it last long enough. I couldn't make it fill my day that was so depressingly empty—because of course I couldn't go across the way. I just couldn't. Not after…

"Stop it, Isabella." I groaned, crouching down on my bathroom floor. I was still in my towel, but I couldn't go any further. I couldn't get enough oxygen through my lungs, couldn't move forward. Everything hurt too much.

I couldn't even cry right now; I was too busy waiting—listening for when Pinky would start clawing at my door like he did every time I finished showering. Then I'd have to yell at him, because my mom hated when he scratched up the wood. Anytime now. Anytime now.

Anytime now, I just might be able to accept that 'anytime' would never come. But now the tears could.

I was on the floor long enough for my hair to completely dry, but that was the only indication of time's passing. Its drips had been like the ticks of a clock, and, like my ability to cope, had stopped.

_Pinky is dead._

I stood up.

_Ferb and I aren't talking._

I grabbed my brush and yanked it through my hair.

_The troop and I are at odds._

I encountered a few snarlies, but ripped the plastic teeth through them anyway. My face was already grimy with tears; what difference did it make now?

_Ferb exploded at me. Ferb purposefully hurt me. Ferb chased me away. Ferb… Ferb…_

I threw my brush against my shower wall, watching it crack at its handle before falling to the bottom of the tub, now in two pieces.

Before I could dwell, I was out the door, crossing the hall and throwing myself into my room. It was too quiet, so I turned on the radio, cranking it up all the way. Maybe it could drown out what the shower could not.

I felt like crap. Even that was a compliment, actually. I needed recuperation, and I needed it desperately. I opened my closet, looking for a dress today. I always felt my prettiest in sundresses. Maybe it could help.

I chose a sweet white one with a layered, twirly skirt. I spun around once, feeling it float around me. It didn't help as much as I'd hoped it would.

A Lindana song started playing on the radio and I quickly crossed over to change it. No reminders. So… instead I get to listen to some sappy love song? No thank you. I flipped around even more, but most the stations were either hardcore rap or something romantic. With a sigh, I turned it off. Silence was better than that frustration. If I got desperate and the walls started talking to me, I could always spring for some of my mom's flamenco CDs.

I sat down on the edge of my bed, running my fingers through my hair. One depressing thought pitched wildly through my head; _what now? _I was stuck. And I was stuck because I'd run as far as I could run, then was chased a little further. There was nowhere else to go.

No, running away and ignoring wasn't helping. If there was anything these past two weeks had taught me, that was it. No more throwing hairbrushes. No more turning off the radio.

Ferb had exploded at me. I'd finally realized what need to be done, finally realized what I wanted, and made that choice, but it didn't do an ounce of good. Ferb had made it clear he wanted some space from me. Ferb had hurt me. Ferb had… had made me so angry!

I didn't want to be broken, but I had so many emotions balled up inside of me. So much frustration.

So now I was angry instead.

Angry at life, but that did me no good. So I was angry with drivers that were too drunk to be able to avoid hitting a dog. I was angry at my fence, because I couldn't understand what Pinky was doing out of the house in the first place. Yes, maybe I was even angry with my mom for not noticing his absence, for not being there before it was too late.

I was angry with Ferb. I was angry with him for being smart enough to realize he was too good for me.

I was angry, so angry—with myself, too.

I stood up. My room was too small and enclosed. I needed somewhere a little more open, somewhere with a little more air to breathe.

When I reached for the door handle I got a look at myself in the mirror on the back of the door. This dress hadn't been the best choice today. My color was all wrong—much to wan and pallid—and this dress only washed me out further. Whatever. I was bound and determined to have a day sulking alone.

Which was why I was frustrated when I heard a knock at the door. If that was Phineas again…

I'd been relieved I wasn't alone yesterday after I'd left the Flynn-Fletcher's house, but it also had been difficult. I had no walls up and no defenses; those had been yelled right out of me. I hadn't been able to act towards Phineas how I should have, and it worried me. He'd been especially quiet when he left.

I know I overanalyzed everything, but a solemn Phineas was never good. I was worried Ferb might have continued to yell at Phineas—completely and utterly innocent Phineas—after I'd left. And that wasn't alright. I bet Ferb had… that would explain the sad look Phineas gave me when he left last night.

Today I needed to thank him for being there for me. It wasn't his fault I'd been spoiled all these years, leaning on his brother for support. And it wasn't his fault Ferb and I couldn't get our act together.

I made it down the last two stairs and opened the door.

It wasn't Phineas.

I slammed the door shut, immediately locking it.

"Isabella?" came Ferb's call.

"Go away!" I yelled through the wood.

"Isabella, don't be like that," he groaned.

"I can be whatever the hell I want to be! _You_ don't need this, remember?"

Before he could respond, I stormed away from the door. Everything was a mess. I… god, he hurt me yesterday more than he even realized, and I was too angry to deal with him just yet.

I went to the kitchen, ignoring the doorbell that kept going off. He was lucky my mom was at work, or I'd sic her on him. Until then, I would wait. I would outlast his incessant ability to press that freaking button.

Five minutes passed, and I'd succeeded. The doorbell stopped ringing. Yay…

I needed comfort. Ugh, nice. That thought only depressed me more. My usual form of comfort was clearly not an option. It might not be an option ever again.

_You can't come back._

Maybe that was for the best. Maybe if I kept telling myself that, this would somehow become okay. Maybe I would add 'maybe' to my list with 'inevitable.' I was starting to hate words now in general. Any word.

Words hurt.

I crossed to the fridge, hoping to find something in there that held even an ounce of appeal. As expected, I failed. All food sounded like dirt to me since… since I found out. I squeezed my eyes shut, my fingers groping meaninglessly through the drawers.

"You need to eat something, Bella," Ferb said.

"No, I—"

Wait_—Ferb said?!_

I spun around on my heel, finding Ferb standing right behind me.

"Holy sh—" I dropped the apple I'd grabbed. "Oh god, Ferb, what—_what the hell?_"

He reached around me and closed the fridge, and I took three steps back and to the side, putting the island between us.

"What the hell are you doing here, Fletcher?" I spat, my hand clamped to my forehead while I waited for my heart rate to reach non-heart attack levels.

"You wouldn't listen to me." He crossed his arms. "You were going to ignore me and leave me out there."

"So, what? You thought you'd just break in here instead? You thought you'd pick the lock to my front door and just help yourself inside?"

"Of course not." He plucked the apple up off the floor. "I picked the backdoor's lock." He held it out to me, but I swatted his hand away. I didn't want it in the first place, and I especially didn't want it coming from him. Petty? Yes. Unjustified? No.

"Well why don't you take your own freaking advice now and get the hell out!"

"I came to apologize."

"Well I'm not quite ready to listen yet. Now get out. You're breaking the law."

"I'm trying to say I'm sorry," he huffed, his voice rising just the tiniest degree, but I wasn't going to cave. He was allowed to be angry yesterday, so I was too.

Then I decided I was going to have my say.

"We've got a problem. Some half-hearted apology won't fix it!"

I could see a flash of anger on his face, probably leftovers from yesterday. The look in his eyes… I could tell he was still peeved. In fact, I'd be willing to bet he was only here because Phineas had pressured him to. He didn't look like he was very sorry.

"Look, I just want to move on. We can—"

"No, Ferb. I'm tired of beating around this issue!"

"There's no issue. I was worried about you, I freaked out and said things I shouldn't have, and now I'm here to say I'm sorry. End of story."

I almost laughed.

"Don't give me that. Clearly there's an issue, or you wouldn't have bitten off my head in the first place! And 'bitten my head off' is one hell of a nice way to say it. Clearly this is something we have to talk about! Wouldn't want me to spill milk at your house or put my shoes in the wrong place and have you go off again!"

"Now you want to talk about it?" he scoffed. "What happened to _'get the hell out?'_ That sure changed quickly."

"You're impossible!"

"I must have caught it from you."

My mouth fell open, but my annoyance held my words captive.

"Well, what is it?" he demanded. "Get out or talk about it? Fight some more? Run away? Brush it under the rug and move on with our lives? Pretend it never happened? Hold a grudge?"

"Oh nice attitude," I muttered, turning my back to him. "You sound _so_ apologetic. Your repentance is simply oozing from you."

"Tell me what it's going to be, Isabella," he continued as if I never spoke. "Because the way I see it, there is no solution here. Run? What does that do? Talk? What's there to say? _What?_ What will work?"

"I don't know, but I'll get right on that. You know, since you're so fed up with me and my 'goddamn problems.'"

"Well, then this will be good for you," he scorned. "A nice, growing experience. Time for your big girl pants."

I could practically feel my mind implode.

"Oh my god, what happened to my life?" I shrieked, storming to the backdoor just to be able to see the sky above. "First the girls, and now… and now _you?_ Why is everyone attacking me? Why are _you? _What the hell?"

I couldn't breathe. This room was too stuffy, and I needed more air. I opened the backdoor, stepping out and gulping in one lungful after another.

"You really need to pick something and stick with it," he called, storming out after me. "_Get out, no let's stop running and talk, no I'm going to run now._ You need to make up your mind!"

God, I did make up my mind! I'd chosen him. I wanted _him._ I wanted him and I wanted to be with him, but before that could happen, we'd… Look where we were now! Look what had happened to us!

"What happened to, 'above anything, you know you can talk to me,'" I cried, turning on him. "You said, 'Always talk to me, okay?' What about that, huh?"

"What?"

"After Adyson's party! We were standing by the car, and you said that! That's what _you _said! And suddenly it's different now?"

"Yes, Isabella, it's _different_ now," he spat, his arm flying out wildly. "It's different! I can't do that for you anymore! I can't!"

"So that's it?" I put all my energy into keeping my voice from quivering; I didn't want to be some stupid damsel, some wounded little doe.

"I—yes! That's it."

"That's it? Really, Ferb? _Really? This_ is it?"

"Damn it," he ran a hand down his face. "Yes, Bella, this has to be it!"

"Why?"

"Would you stop crying?" he huffed.

Crap. Stupid tears!

"No. _Why?_"

"Because I can't handle you anymore!"

"You can't_ handle _me anymore_?"_

"No."

"Well I didn't realize I was such a burden!" I thundered away from him, to the side of my house.

"You—You're putting words in my mouth!" He chased after me, but I turned on my heel, facing him again.

"Oh, am I? Because regardless of the words, your meaning seems pretty _damn_ clear!"

"God, you're being impossible!"

"And you're being a jerk!"

"You know what?" He laughed, the sound razor-sharp, "Believe whatever the hell you want to believe! Because I don't care! It's not my job to care anymore!"

Those words stopped the blood in my veins. It was like he'd punched me, but that didn't even begin to cover it. It felt like he'd tried to aim for my face, but missed and punched every other part of me instead. Or maybe instead of a fist, it was a rock. A boulder. It knocked the air and anger right out of me.

"What?"

"Not anymore. I don't care! I don't!"

"So… so… what?" I spluttered, unable to keep back my hurt. "We can't even be friends now?"

This made him falter, shifting from angry to fumingly defensive.

"You—That's not—"

"You don't care about me?"

"That's not what I meant, and you damn well know—"

"You… don't care about me."

"Would you shut up and—"

"You don't even _care_ enough to—"

Ferb forced me against the fence, and his lips crashed down on mine.

I, he, what—what… what, _what?_

He had my wrists captured in his hands, the hard contours of his form pressed completely against mine, and I couldn't think, couldn't move, couldn't… _mhm, just couldn't_…

My mind could only grasp how perfect I felt right now. My headache, my heartache… one second and it was like they never existed at all. My concern for needing to breathe suddenly wasn't so important anymore. My heart was thrashing against my ribcage and pounding in my ears.

His fingers were suddenly tracing up my arms, cupping my cheeks, down my sides, around my waist—there was small whine that must have come from me, but I wasn't sure. I just knew I wanted him closer. He tugged on my lower lip and effortlessly took things deeper. My stomach swirled, growing heavy with all those weird feelings he could so easily create. It was a shot of sugar to my bloodstream with each movement.

My hands fell into fists, and only then had I processed that I wasn't pinned anymore, wasn't… _wasn't_…

_Wasn't supposed to be doing this!_

My hands fell to his shoulders, and—_just do it, just do it,_ _just _do_ it_—I pushed against him. The effort was ridiculously feeble, but it didn't take much. Ferb sprang back, and my legs were so weak that I slid to my knees in the grass.

_What just—what just—_

I looked up in time to see Ferb shoot away from me, a string of profanities vaulting from his mouth—words so foul I _never_ thought I'd hear them leave his lips. They sounded… so _wrong_ in his charming, polished accent. No, I didn't want to hear him utter such things.

His arm reared back, and his next action scared me so much I actually shrieked.

His fist slammed into the side of my house. Hard.

I scrambled to my feet, rushing over and taking his fist in my hand. _How could that not have broken something? That must have broken something! _I'd had my first aid patch for years. Surely I should be able to tell if—

Ferb yanked his hand back.

"You need to leave. Now."

I nodded, but didn't move—never mind the fact that it was _my _backyard. Ferb was slowly backing away from me, his reluctance and guilt clinging to him like frost.

"This… this _never_ happened."

_But…_ _what if…_

"You're going to go back to your perfect relationship. My brother's going to be happy. You're going to be happy. I… god, I damn near destroyed it." He ran both hands over his face—before he cringed. He cradled his right hand, but his face became completely smooth. An impeccable façade. Almost.

"You _are_ hurt," I cried, rushing toward him again. I took his hand and this time refused to let him pull back. His knuckles were red, definitely going to bruise, and the skin split on a couple of them. There was blood, and it looked painful, but thankfully I didn't think anything was broken.

"Isabella—"

"You idiot," I accused, angry for different reason now. A reason that made my heart ache. "You idiot, you—"

I flung my arms around his torso, unable to think of anything but him, and clinging to him, and all the stupid things people did.

"Don't you ever, _ever_ do something stupid like that—stupid, stupid idiot. Don't you _ever—_"

I felt his arms surround me, and I couldn't stop myself from reaching up and taking his face.

"Don't you ever…" I stretched up on the tips of my toes and pressed my lips to his cheek. "_Ever_, you stupid…" I trailed along his jawline. "Stupid Brit. You're supposed to be a genius. A _genius_, not some moron that hurts himself." I finally found his lips, but didn't dwell there long, continuing to his other cheek and the neglected side of his jaw. "I never—never want to see… don't you ever…"

I was on his lips again, relishing the way they instantly moved against mine. We had our motions down, our movements in sync. I loved these lips. They were mine.

They… no, they weren't mine. They weren't mine. They weren't mine, but I wanted them to be. I wanted—

Just like that, they were gone. His warmth was gone. By the time my eyes opened, I could only see a streak of green shooting around the side of my house. Maybe it was all in my head, but I could swear my gate cried when it opened, shot a cannon when it closed; never had it sounded so drastic, so definite, so final. A flash, a mere blink—it was all it took before he was gone.

He'd left me.

After that thought crashed down, I felt angry again. I felt like storming after him, like telling him off for running away, like screaming a little more. My feet agreed, and I jetted forward, only to feel my ankle roll to the side. I fell.

My mind ran through a rambling of, _wet, wet, warm, wet, what? _before I could fully comprehend what just happened.

I'd fallen into my swimming pool.

Fully clothed. Now drenched to the bone.

I grabbed on to the ledge. I was so frustrated with Ferb. And now I was soaked. But for the moment, all I could do was fixate on the cause of my current dilemma: a small, purple ball lying in the grass. I'd tripped on Pinky's favorite—what _was_ his favorite toy.

I stared at the small thing for what felt like an eternity.

And I did the only thing that made sense right now.

I laughed.

I laid my forehead against the cement ridge of my pool, appreciating its warmth after baking in the sun, and I laughed.

"What the hell are we doing?" I asked the air. Thankfully it didn't reply, and I ran my hand over my eyes.

Life sucked sometimes.

Like when you lost the dog you'd had since you were three. Like when you tripped on the ball you used every day to play with him, fell into a swimming pool, and could only think you'd be perfectly fine with that if the creature you're missing would be able to run up right now and lick your already-soaked face.

Life was complicated and difficult enough. So why were we making it worse?

I couldn't stop laughing at it. At how ridiculous this was.

I heaved myself out of my pool, and—dripping, barefoot, and still in stitches—I raced across the street. I knew Ferb would ignore me if I rang the doorbell, so I pulled the same stunt on him that he did on me; I went to the backyard. Low-and-behold, Ferb stood leaning against his kitchen counter. The door was unlocked. I let myself in.

Ferb's head jerked up, his eyes meeting mine. Then they ran over the rest of me, the giggling, sopping mess that I was, and he seemed beside himself.

"Isabella, what—"

"I love you."

* * *

><p><em>RR please! Reviews mean quicker updates :) I love knowing what you guys are thinking._

_Dun dun duuuuuun!_

_I promise I love you guys. No, I didn't completely forget about Phineas. It's all part of the plan. The twisted, painful, fluffy, tears and smiles, face-palming, laughing, make-you-squeal-like-a-fangirl plan._

_Or perhaps I'm being overzealous ^.^ Aw well. Hope you guys liked it._

_Love, Lilly-Belle_


	43. Logic

_Holy crap, guys. I was going to wait. I was seriously going to wait until Sunday to update just because of all I have on my plate right now, but for that last chapter to get 37 reviews in less than 24 hours (smashing the previous record of 23 in two days) I couldn't resist. Then to have PnFanatic (welcome to my story!) go through and review every chapter up to this point?! _

_Guys *le tear* I'm seriously feeling the love right now!_

_So to thank you, I'm posting the next chapter a mere 20 hours after my last update. Like I said, you review, I respond. Enjoy, my lovelies._

_Wow, that sounded creepy. Enjoy, my darlings. Much better._

_Disclaimer: I do not own Phineas and Ferb._

* * *

><p>CHAPTER FORTY-THREE:<p>

Logic

**PHINEAS**

This blasted music box had a spot on it that wouldn't come off! I wasn't even sure what could have caused the discolor of the metal like this, and usually I could fix it without a problem, but today I'd forgotten my miniature chemistry set at home. Now I was trying to clean it the old fashioned way: oil and cloth.

I usually wasn't forgetful, but I'd been mentally preoccupied this morning. First and foremost, I thought Ferb needed to apologize to Isabella. No matter what was going on, he shouldn't have yelled at her like he had. I made sure to let him know that with a few notes I'd placed on the kitchen counter.

'_Went to work with Dad this morning so you'd have a free schedule. I'm sorry for fighting with you. Now that I've apologized, it's your turn. __Go apologize to her!__ Meany butt. And you better do a decent job; I don't like being mad at you. –Phineas'_

But then I felt bad, so I had written a second note.

'_P.S. Okay, I'm not actually too mad at you, because that's really hard for me, but I do think you were a jerk yesterday! Please make this right. –Phineas'_

Then, just before I walked out the door, I had been struck with another thought.

'_P.P.S. If you don't go and apologize to her, I will not hesitate to build an impenetrable fortress and not talk to __you__ this time. Do it. Today. And be nice about it, please. –Phineas'_

I just hoped he listened.

Yesterday was a day of _unusual. _I thought it was perhaps leaking into today, too. I had a pressing sense of unease.

Yes, I was upset that Isabella lost her dog and was hurting, but I couldn't say that was it. That was only half the problem, because… I was also uneasy with my brother.

Hey, this was progress! I tried to build on that thought.

Because it wasn't just that Isabella was upset or that Ferb had been… having an off day. It was something about the two of them—in this situation—together that bothered me.

Ah, there we go. That must have been it.

I was upset because my brother and best friend had been in a fight. And when I was comforting Isabella and she was talking about Ferb like she was, that added to my unease because it sucked that they were such great friends but still were fighting. That made perfect sense.

"Phineas, someone spilled soda on the case up front. Would you be a lamb and take care of it?" I looked up from the antique in my hands to stare at a brown box towering in front of me. My father's voice came from behind it. "The paper towels are under the cash wrap."

"Sure thing," I laughed, watching him lumber off to the backroom with his giant load.

My dad had recently ventured off to a massive antique convention. He'd been the keynote speaker, talking about a medieval staff or something that had just been uncovered. He'd only been gone for a day, but he'd kicked butt at multiple auctions and came home with a heap of goods to be sorted, cleaned, priced, and put out for sale.

I enjoyed helping out. Dad and Ferb had trips to Britain from time to time, but working at the shop with him was something that tended to be more exclusively for me. Yes, it wasn't as glamorous as an international trip, but that suited me just fine. I could get excitement anywhere at anytime; I liked seeing my dad in his normal, everyday element. I jumped right to the task Dad asked of me, wiping away the mess.

If only the other mess could be cleaned so easily…

_Blarg. _Why did it bother me so much? I mean, I knew I was close to both of them, so of course I'd be bothered when my brother yelled at her. It was okay that I was bothered, right? It was completely justified.

So why was I so bothered that I was bothered?

Nothing was making sense right now.

"Why the long face?" Dad popped up in front of me and I jolted. I realized I'd been scrubbing the showcase a little hard.

"Ferb," I admitted, balling up my paper towel and tossing it down on the glass top. "He yelled at Isabella yesterday, sending her running away crying, and I can't understand why."

"Really? That doesn't sound at all like Ferb."

"Yeah, he was actually… _mean_ to her. He kicked her out of our house. I don't get it."

"Did you ask him why?"

I sighed and sat down on the little stepping stool sitting by the case. "Yeah, I did, and it didn't make any sense. I couldn't understand at all, but he was still really mad when I was talking to him. He slammed the door in my face, and Isabella was so hurt. I wanted to make sure she was okay, so I left."

"I'm still having difficulty believing that Ferb would ever yell at Isabella."

"Oh yeah, it was an entire argument, but it was so… one-sided. She wasn't fighting back, and she could barely get a single word in regardless. I walked in in the middle of it, and although nothing was really said, it felt like something I wasn't supposed to hear."

"And after Isabella ran away, what explanation did your brother give for his behavior?"

"That was the confusing part. I kept asking him what was going on, and he kept telling me to leave. He kept putting me off like this was some secret—like he couldn't tell me. Then he just… exploded. He said he'd been yelling at her because he _cared_."

My dad's eyebrows shot up at this. "He said that?"

"Yeah! One heck of a way to show he cares! It's absolutely ridiculous." I blew out a huff of air. "I mean, it's not just me, right? This _is_ illogical, isn't it?"

"It is. Although, there are some things that can't be explained with algorithms and formulas. You'll never understand what your brother said if you rely completely on logic because not everything is logical. Have you considered that?"

"Of course," I responded immediately. "Like magic. That can't be explained logically. But I don't think this thing with Ferb had anything to do with—"

"That's not what I was getting at, son. There are other illogical things too. Given everything that has happened with Isabella, I'm sure you've realized this."

Oh.

"You mean… like emotional stuff…"

"Exactly." Dad nodded, but I still couldn't quite make sense of it.

"So, what? Isabella somehow hurt Ferb's feelings enough to make him explode on her like that? Then continue to explode at me? I don't think that's it either. I don't think there's anything someone could do to hurt Ferb's feelings that much, let alone if that someone were Isabella."

"Well, that's not quite where I was going with that either, Phineas." My dad's expression softened. There was something there… something I was surprised with myself for picking up on.

"You know exactly what's going on, don't you?" I realized. A slow smile spread across his face, but it wasn't necessarily a happy one. It was more of an apologetic smile. I shot to my feet. "You know? What's going on? Why did Ferb act like that?"

"Whoa, Phineas—" he tried, but I couldn't stop.

"Why did he yell at her? And then at me? What did he mean when he said it was 'because he cared?' Why won't he tell me? And why… why does it seem like I'm always the last person to know?"

He put both his hands on my shoulders, a more genuine smile on his face now. "You know," he mused, "I'm not used to you being the same height as me. What happened to that little ten-year-old that used to prance about, hm?"

"What?" I blinked. That seemed totally random. I knew my dad could be a little… eclectic at times, but what did that have to do with anything?

"You know, even back then you boys were the two smartest chaps I'd ever met, and you were like that for one very specific reason."

He raised his eyebrows facetiously, knowing perfectly well that I could never refuse such bait; it went against my nature. I couldn't help but return his smile. "And why is that?"

"Because when you didn't have an answer you found a way to find one no matter what. Even if it was impossible, you found a way to figure it out."

"Is that just a good-parenting way of telling me you won't tell me?"

He smirked. "Perhaps. Or maybe it's my way of telling you that the greatest value is found in that you make yourself."

"So pretty much exactly what I said," I chuckled, shaking my head at him. "But I've tried that, Dad. I keep thinking about it, but I can't seem to make it coalesce."

"That's because it isn't an equation, my dear boy." He laughed amusedly. Then his face brightened, like he suddenly had an idea. "Remember all those old black-and-white detective movies we used to watch together?"

"Yeah…"

"Well, maybe thinking about those will help. You've been using all of these deductive reasoning skills, but maybe that won't work here. Maybe you should try some _in_ductive reasoning."

"_In_ductive reasoning?"

He nodded. "The largest meanings can be found in the smallest of trifles, lad. Has anything else peculiar been going on with your brother?"

"What?"

"Is there anything else you've noticed about Ferb? Ferb, Isabella, and yourself—that whole relationship?"

Huh. That was an odd question. Although, now that he mentioned it… I suppose there was.

"Well, he's been talking a lot more lately, but I guess it's more than that." I fell silent again, trying to put all of the oddities there'd been as of late into words. "He's been… I don't know. He's been more distant—like whenever Izzy comes over now—but at the same time… not. He's also been _less_ distant because he's been more… expressive. I don't know, Dad, it's hard to explain. That's why I'm so frustrated!"

He motioned for me to go on.

"It doesn't help me figure out anything. Sure, he keeps disappearing when Isabella comes over—off to work on some blueprints—but he's only done that since we started dating. He's been trying to give us some space, even if we didn't ask for it.

"Although, according to Isabella, he hasn't actually been working on blueprints, but just doodling random stuff." I leaned against the showcase, propping my head up on my elbow. I let out a sigh.

"That pensiveness came on rather quickly," Dad hummed, leaning with both his arms on the case.

"Well, it's odd. I'm just now realizing… Ferb and Isabella say things all the time about each other—like the blueprint thing, or when Ferb said she wanted to visit Wales, and all that stuff—that I never noticed. I feel kind of bad."

"Why would you feel bad?"

"It's just… we talk. Isabella and I talk. Ferb and I talk—you know, in that charade-y way he has. Ferb, Isabella and I _talk_. All day everyday, while we're working on our projects. But… for some reason lately I feel like… like I don't know enough. They say something about the other that I never even caught onto. And I'm happy they've built such a strong friendship, but…"

"But?"

I shook my head; this conversation just shifted into something else, something uncomfortable. I didn't know what to make of it.

"Phineas, if you can't have a little talk with me, father to son, then who can you talk to?"

I looked down through the glass, tracing the swirls on the cover of an old pocket watch with my eyes. He had a point.

"It… I don't know. I start to feel uncomfortable. And it's stupid, because it's something else I can't explain. But just say their names…"

I watched my dad as he did me. He blinked.

"No, really," I clarified, "say their names. Together."

Dad's eyebrows furrowed. "Ferb and Isabella?"

I nodded. There was that unease again, slinking into my stomach. "See? And at first I thought I was maybe sick, or something, but it only happens at certain times, like that."

This was making sense to someone, right?

"Phineas, I'm afraid I don't quite know what you mean."

Apparently not.

"I don't like it, Dad." I shook my head, but then thought about what I said. "Well of course I don't _dislike_ it. I'm happy they're such close friends. I'm happy they understand each other and that they're there for each other, but… do they have to be so gosh darn _good_ at it?"

My dad's eyes sparked with some kind of recognition. He started shaking his head.

"Phineas… Phineas, Phineas, Phineas, how did… can you really not name what you're feeling right now?"

"Unease?" Seemed as good an answer as any.

"Close. But there's another emotion that hits the nail a little better." I stared at him. He let out a small puff of exasperation. "Ferb and Isabella."

My nose crinkled. That… feeling returned. "You don't have to keep doing it, Dad."

"I'm just trying to help."

"I think I'd like some other form of help better."

He shook his head at me again, and I picked up on some strange bewilderment, like he couldn't believe me right now. I couldn't blame him; I was bewildered too.

"Okay, Phineas. What else have you noticed?"

"What else?" I wracked my brain. "I guess we had a pretty strange conversation when Baljeet was over, but it wasn't that big of a deal."

My dad looked at me inquisitively. I could practically hear the thought emanating from that head of his: _largest of meanings in the smallest of trifles._

"Well…" I ventured. "It _was_ weird. More so than usual for us. I don't even know why we were having it, but it was pretty much, if Ferb and I were after the same girl, who would get her? And I said he would because he can actually understand girls, but he said I would because I had."

My dad grabbed the glass cleaner and started wiping down the front of the showcase, but that was okay. The gears were turning in my head, and I didn't need his response right now.

Trifles. Subtleties. The little parts.

So maybe it wasn't like an equation, but it did have small parts—just like a machine. Maybe I could pick those apart.

_I _had.

I _had_ gotten the girl?

I had gotten the _girl?_

Hmmm.

But that wasn't it. We'd veered away from Baljeet's general question of wanting to know if your friends had feelings for your girlfriend. We had made it personal. We had been talking about Isabella. _Isabella_ specifically… so why had…

_You got the girl. _It was my brother's voice. The way he'd said that…

I got _the_ girl?

Oh. Oh wow. That resonated. That was one part of the machine that clicked into place.

I got _the_ girl.

I got Isabella.

And there was a problem with that.

Dad had been right when he said this wasn't an equation. It didn't work that way. But I could feel it tingly in the back of my brain—perhaps the start of a theory. And if not quite a theory, then at least a model. I had all the pieces, I knew I did! There was some logic to them. I just had to find it.

Maybe Ferb was worried we'd grow apart after stirring in a relationship… but this obviously wasn't centered on me. Maybe he didn't want to lose his friends to a relationship. Maybe he didn't want to lose the friend he had in _Isabella_ to a relationship.

Or maybe he didn't want to lose the friend he had in Isabella to _me_…

_You got the girl._

No. Maybe he didn't want to lose Isabella.

He didn't want to lose Isabella.

Oh god, that was it.

And he didn't want to lose Isabella because… because he…

Oh no. Oh, Ferb…

How could I have been so blind?

* * *

><p><em>RR please!_

_It was so fun to write Phineas working through it. Because he is oblivious when it comes to emotions, and he'd work through and think about it differently than other people would. He's adorable like that! Next chapter is all Ferb, so don't worry all those who were hung up on the end of last chapter!_

_And I know I've toyed with you guys before, but that seems like a pretty sound realization for Phineas. Granted, I like to surprise you… I suppose you shall see, shan't you? XD _

_I seriously love you guys. It's like a have a posse of virtual friends! (Which… means I have friends… -.-') Haha I can be socially awkward. But that's a good thing for you because it means I'm cranking out around 7 pages a day of writing! Which of course brings more Enough to you!_

_But your responses have been touching and truly remarkable, so thank you! Keep it up, and I'll keep bringing more!_

_~Lilly-Belle_


	44. Words

_You guys seriously blew my mind! The response to my story has skyrocketed! It is beyond my comprehension!_

_But no, that's not even it. It's not the volume of reviews, it's the content. I can't believe how much you guys love my story. To get people saying they told half their school about "my awesome story" was incredible. Then to see usernames like "Enough Fan" and "More Enough"… I almost cried. *Cough cough* I mean, no I didn't. I'm a big girl. I'm so happy you can't get Enough (tee hee, see what I did there? XD)_

_I was going to wait a smidge longer once again, since I have four essays I'm in the middle of writing, but the chapter before last was record-shattering, and this one pretty much blew "record shattering" up in a microwave and ate it for breakfast… so HERE IS YOUR REWARD! Enjoy! It's the longest chapter yet._

_Disclaimer: I do not own Phineas and Ferb._

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><p>CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR:<p>

Words

**FERB**

I rushed in my backdoor, disbelieving what had just happened. It didn't happen. It couldn't have happened. It… I…

Phineas was going to kill me.

I moved further into the room, where I was met with what had prompted me to try to apologize to Isabella in the first place despite the fact that I'd still been upset: a beckons by my brother. My eyes automatically fell to the third note.

'_P.P.S. If you don't go and apologize to her, I will not hesitate to build an impenetrable fortress and not talk to __you__ this time. Do it. Today. And be nice about it, please. –Phineas'_

When I first read that this morning it had confused me, but then I remembered that one ridiculous fight we'd had when we were kids. Part of me didn't want to apologize just to see Phineas throw the fit, build the fortress, and try not to speak. He'd struggle with that.

Now all I had left was guilt.

_And be nice about it, please._

Well. I'd failed. Not only had I not been very nice about it, I'd gone and…

And… it was the heat of the moment! We were fighting, and some things came out wrong, and she had the ridiculous idea that I didn't care about her, and she wouldn't listen, and… and I'd kissed her.

I kissed my little brother's girlfriend.

I crossed to the sink and rinsed my hand. I added a little soap, hoping that would be the end of that, but it stung something fierce. I gingerly patted it dry with a towel. It hurt. _Ow_, it hurt. But as much as I deserved the injury, it wouldn't do to have it get infected. I had no choice but to clean it.

Well, and Isabella would kill me if she knew I hadn't taken care of it. I thought back to her backyard just moments before… to her reaction, to her concern when she took my hand, to her lips making their way down my jaw…

No! I would have no more of Isabella! No more contact, no more consideration, no more! I had to truly cut her out! Because she was my little brother's girlfriend, and I'd just kissed her, and that would never be okay!

With a groan, I turned around to the kitchen counter, leaning on it and burying my face in my good hand. It would never be okay.

I heard the backdoor open, and before my muscles could respond, my mind jumped to the realization of what was happening. But she could not be here right now! She could not! My head snapped up, and I finally processed the fact that she was giggling.

She stepped inside, laughing and leaning against the wall like she'd just heard the world's funniest joke.

And she was completely soaked.

I wasn't seeing things, right? No, she was completely drenched from head to toe. And… and… oh, god…

Did… she remember she was wearing a _white_ dress today? White dress with a pink bra, apparently. Add a lot of water… not the best combination. Thankfully her skirt had multiple layers, but…

Within a second, my mind shut down and then went through a total reboot. Why was she wet?! What was she even doing here? She's smart enough to know her presence wasn't a good idea! She's smart enough to know we had to stay away from each other! Absolutely and conclusively. Period.

"Isabella, what—"

"I love you."

…

Uh.

…

_What?_

"No, it's not even that," she laughed, throwing her arms out like she was exasperated. "I mean, I've always _loved_ you. So that's not what I'm saying." She shut the glass door behind her, stepping out of the pool of water already accumulating around her feet.

She crossed over to me and threw her arms around me. I was too stunned to move… and probably much, much too selfish to regardless. Despite the water now seeping into the front of my shirt, I just loved feeling her against me. Feeling her in my arms. I was going to hell.

"I'm sorry about earlier," she said. "I'm sorry about not accepting your apology, and I'm sorry for picking a fight. I'm sorry about your hand, and… and…"

I was too stunned to do anything but hold her.

"Oh!" She sprang back. "Oh, I'm sorry for getting you wet!"

What had happened those four minutes we were apart from each other?

She turned on her heel, strolling back to the door like she wasn't sure what she should do with herself. "I don't _love_ you, Ferb. Well, of course I _do_ love you! You're my best friend, so of course I love you, I'm just not saying that."

She started meandering around our kitchen table, and I began to wonder if she'd somehow hit her head. I turned to follow her movements, keeping my eyes locked on her, but she was all over the place. I honestly had no clue what to make of it.

"Because then there's the whole word _in_, and that was what I was missing, but I fell in my pool, and I realized I've had the word _in _in there all along, and that's why I wasn't saying what I was just saying to you, because even as I said it to you, it would never be enough."

She stopped at the head of the table, running her hands through her dripping hair.

"And now I've realized that, but I can't, and I realized I'm in with the wrong _in_ because I thought it was _in_ all along, when it wasn't and it isn't and it never will be because… because…" She was clearly out of air by now. "Because of you."

She started laughing again, and I could only stare at her. She was so _Isabella_ right now. She looked like she was happy and like she might cry at any second. She looked like a drowned model and she looked like a giddy psychopath.

I… I couldn't wrap my head around any of it. What just happened? Maybe I'd hit my hand so hard it traveled up my arm and did brain damage. I covered my eyes, tilting my head back in confusion.

_Did… Isabella really just come in here in stitches, soaked in a see-through dress, and start wandering around rambling like a lunatic?_

"Sounds about right," she confirmed and I removed my hand from my eyes.

Oh great… I'd asked that out loud… Damn her ability to draw words from my mouth!

I could only go back to staring at her. Then she jolted.

"Wait, did you say—" she looked down at herself, seeming to realize for the first time that she was wearing a white sundress. I hadn't meant to look, but the fabric up top was thin, leaving nothing to the imagination over her bra. It wasn't exactly subtle, either: bright pink with dark pink lace over—

My eyes shot to the ceiling. My cheeks burned so much I swore I could have cooked pancakes on them.

"Um… u-uh, I'm so sorry," I stuttered, still refusing to look at her. "I'm sorry I… I should have told you sooner… I should've—I was just so confused, and—"

"No, no… It's… it's okay," she said, seeming to sober up from her crazed rambling of before. "I didn't even…"

Doing my best not to look at her, I made my way over to my chair at the table. I had one of my favorite hoodies draped over the back, and I grabbed it. I crossed back around the table and held it out for her.

There were two seconds before her hand fastened around the material, and within that time my eyes betrayed me; they flashed back to her face, and in that moment of weakness they were hooked.

"I'm sorry," I murmured again, and she smiled down at my hand, still holding the hoodie even though she had it.

"It's okay," she repeated. Thankfully her voice seemed more amused than anything. "The embarrassment is eased by the rare sight of you getting flustered." Which… of course made me even more flustered. She laughed. "See? I've never seen your cheeks that red. What happened, Mr. Stoic? Did I throw you off your game?"

"Coming from the girl whose cheeks match her bra," I quipped, but it only ended up making me more self-conscious. I wanted to hit my head against something. I was always so collected, especially regarding ladies! I wasn't supposed to get flustered! How could she have so many effects on me?

She rolled her eyes, and I realized how close we'd somehow gotten. Cursed moment of weakness! The jacket still separated us—a final defense against our rash idiocy—but we were both holding it, and in some way that counted as a connection. I was looking down at her, and she was staring up at me…

I dropped my end of the hoodie and took a step back. How had it become impossible to simply be in the same room as her? How the heck had we gotten to this point? We couldn't fight—we couldn't even be standing in a reasonable proximity—without getting so caught up in each other that we did something stupid.

She continued to watch me, doing nothing but hold the jacket. She… she should really put it on. That would make all of this so much easier.

"Well?" she snapped suddenly, and I raised my eyebrow at her. "Are you going to turn around, or what?"

That did nothing to help my confusion, and I realized I could die of embarrassment right now. Any second, I could keel over. My cheeks were feverish. But I immediately turned away from her. Then I heard the sound of a zipper. Putting on the hoodie. Then I heard the sound of another zipper. Not putting on the hoodie? I heard the slap of wet clothing against the ground, then the sound of a zipper being pulled up?

"It's safe," she said, but I didn't need to turn around. She strolled right passed me, making a beeline for the sink. Her sopping dress was held in her hand, and it took almost an entire minute watching her ring it out for my brain to process that she was only wearing my hoodie.

I mean, the hoodie was pretty loose on me, and thus it was a dress on her. The sleeves were super bunched up on her thin arms and fell about constantly. The fabric made it halfway down her thigh, not much shorter than most of her dresses… but… god, she was wearing only my hoodie.

What was happening today?

"Isabella?" I choked out, almost feeling the need to turn around in the opposite direction.

"Hey, you try wearing a drenched flowy-twirly skirt. It's heavy, and I was dripping everywhere." She reached into a drawer and pulled out a dishtowel, which she chucked back at me. "Here."

Seriously, what was happening? We go from fight to kiss to separation to soaked reappearance to sudden rambling nonsense to wearing only my hoodie and acting normal. Well, acting _abnormal_, but acting normal compared to the whole fighting and rambling lunatic thing.

"Isabella, I… I'm so confused. You fell in your pool? You love me, but you don't _love _me, but you _do_ love me, but that's not what your saying? And all that stuff where you kept saying the word _in,_ I have no clue—What just happened?"

She tossed her dress to the side of the sink and turned around to face me. I… I got caught in her eyes again.

Crap! _Mental slap._ I suddenly remembered exactly why we were in this position. I remembered exactly why I'd stormed away from her, and exactly why she absolutely _could not_ be here right now.

"Isabella, you have to leave," I blurted out, my mouth jumping on the same train of thought that just rammed into my brain. "I… I messed up." I let out a dry laugh. "No, that doesn't even cover it. I completely screwed up, completely screwed up everything." I crossed over to her, taking her elbow with the intent of ushering her back outside, back to her house so she and I could boycott each other in the name of human decency. "I won't… it won't happen again, and—"

"No, Ferb." She pulled back, staring at me intently. Any psychosis remaining from the giggling wreck she was when she came in the door seemed largely contained, and I could see the side to her that understood the gravity of this situation. The gravity of what had happened in her backyard. "No, I'm tired of leaving."

"Isabella—"

"No! No more 'you have to leave.'" She laughed. "In fact, 'leave' just made the list."

"The list?"

"With 'maybe' and 'inevitable,'" she muttered. "Words I hate. Don't ask. Point is, I'm not leaving, Ferb."

"Isabella," I put my hands on her shoulders, feeling a distinct sting in my right. I tried to ignore the injury, though. I had bigger fish to fry. "You're with Phineas. Do you not understand what that means?"

"Do you?"

"What?"

"Well based on earlier today…"

"Now is not the time to make jokes, Bella! You should know that."

"Are you kidding?" she laughed. "Everything is a mess right now. Absolutely everything. My friends are at my throat about Phineas, my relationship with you two guys is a wreck, and my dog is _dead_. I need a joke right now. It's one of the few things I have left I can make sense of!"

I watched her, studying the set of her face and the glimmer in her eyes. I realized something that I hadn't noticed in the wake of our fight—something I'd been too angry to see before. There was some flare there, something vibrant.

"And I know I must not be making any sense," she continued. "I know I must seem all over the place, and I keep contradicting myself, and I don't know how to say what I want to say, or do what I want to do, and I'm drenched, and I'm a mess, but it's the only way I can make it right now, Ferb. I don't know any other way, but I'm trying—"

Her voice broke, but I was surprised to see no tears.

"I'm trying, Ferb..."

But… but I had to keep this in perspective.

"Listen, I understand that. Get it all out of your system now, because if Phineas finds out what—"

"What if I break up with him?"

I blinked. Then I blinked again. A third, a fourth, and she just stood watching me. "What?"

"Phineas. What if I broke up with him? What then?"

I had to turn away from her. I had to squeeze my eyes shut, had to keep myself from running away with those words. I had to keep this in perspective!

"Isabella, you wouldn't do that. You—"

"Would do anything for you, Ferb. Anything to keep from seeing you as anguished as you've been over this. Anything to keep you from being hurt and driven to the point of bursting like I did, and I'm sorry, so sorry that I—"

I turned and placed my finger over her lips.

"I… that was all my fault, not yours. But please, _please_ don't tell me you'd break up with Phineas. Don't tell me that, love, because I—god, I don't have the heart to hear it. You wouldn't break up with Phineas."

I pulled my hand back, but she reached out and took it. She was shaking her head at me. An airy laugh escaped her throat.

"Everyone keeps telling me what I should, could, would… _Isabella, you should know that, Isabella if you could only admit this, Isabella you wouldn't do that_."

"Isabella…"

"_This…_" she held up our intertwined hands. "And… and _this_…" her fingers spread across the center of my chest, her palm just over my heart. She stared up at me.

"Isabella, you—you shouldn't—"

"No, Ferb," she hummed. "No, no more of that." She took a step forward, leaned up on her tiptoes, and pressed her lips against mine. It was short and simple—just those three seconds of pressure—and she pulled back before I could even react. "_This…_ how this feels… doesn't that trump any should, could, or would?"

I could only gape at her. Phineas… oh god, Phineas was going to _kill_ me.

"Well, doesn't it?" she repeated, and I yanked my voice forth from my stunned brain.

"Not when you're with my brother."

"That's why I would—"

"_No_, Bella," I snapped back. Then I reigned my tone back in; she didn't deserve that. "I'm sorry, it's just… you wouldn't. You wouldn't break up with him. You wouldn't be able to, and if need be, I can tell you why."

I paused, giving her the opportunity to have her guess. To tell me she knew for herself. I could see she wouldn't say anything. That was okay, though. I would.

"You wouldn't be able to because Phineas is the only one left in all of this—in the entirety of this mess—who isn't guilty. He's always been the last to know on every front, but the most positive nevertheless. He's the only one left with some decency, and you wouldn't be able to take that away.

"You wouldn't have the heart to do it, love. It's one of the reasons I—"_Censor, censor, censor!_ "I just know."

"What makes you so sure?"

I shook my head at her. "Because I don't have the heart to do that to my brother either. You think I want to see you with him? But it's Phineas. Phineas, the most genuine, caring, and ingenious person alive. He has the biggest heart, and I could never crush it. So how could I expect you to? You've got too much heart to break his."

I could see it in the surprise in her eyes. She couldn't comprehend how I'd managed to capture her struggle so entirely. She looked so trapped, and my mind was reeling for a way to make this okay.

Would my brother understand? Well he might, but he liked Isabella. He seriously came to bat for her when I'd exploded at her—mental cringe—and had been wonderful every step of the way. And emotions led people to do crazy things… like start screaming at someone after they were already mourning the loss of their dog, for example. Who knew how my brother might react to something like this.

"But Ferb… people can adapt. People can change. Just look at you. At me!"

"Are you seriously saying you think you can march right up to Phineas and dump him just like that?" I asked doubtfully. She stuck her lip out in distaste.

"I… I don't know, Ferb. But I'm just saying things change. Everything changes, but it's like we're all stuck playing the exact same parts. We're in these roles, we're focusing on all those damn _shoulds _and _coulds_ and _woulds, _and you're being so ridiculous right now," she laughed. "Absolutely ridiculous, you silly boy. Why can't you just listen and accept the fact that I—"

We heard keys in the front door.

_Shit! _This wasn't good.

Because here I was, standing inappropriately close to Isabella in our kitchen, clearly in the middle of a very heated heart-to-heart… with her only wearing my hoodie.

"Yo, bro," came Phineas' call, "you home yet?"

I was frozen; I couldn't respond. Isabella suffered the same affliction, and I suddenly remembered she was still holding my hand. Oh, that was enough to thaw me. I let it drop like a hot coal, taking a step away from her and trying to pretend she wasn't watching me.

Phineas let out a laugh, still by the front door. "Are you actually _not_ home?" he yelled out. "Or am I just being too optimistic about your recent vocal streak?"

"I'm home," I called back. I had to; trying to hide or cover up Isabella being here would never work, and any attempts to do so would only make this even more suspicious. It didn't need any help to look even worse. Two seconds later, Phineas bounded into the kitchen.

And for once I wished my brother wasn't so dreadful at hiding his emotions. He was completely taken aback, and it was written vividly across his face. His mouth dropped open like he had something to say, but couldn't. His eyes automatically went to Isabella, sizing her up in her indecent state, then flickered back and forth between us. He just stood there.

"Hey, Phineas," Isabella broke the stunned silence of his entrance, brushing a few strands of her dripping hair behind her ear. "Um… What'cha doing?"

"What… what am _I _doing?" he asked, bewildered being the understatement to end all understatements when describing his expression. He looked around the kitchen, probably surveying the various puddles left from where Isabella had been standing. "That is _not_ the question here."

Isabella looked at me, but I didn't know what to say any better than she did. I looked back at my brother, surprised to see him watching Isabella watching me. The awkwardness now seeping into the atmosphere would soon be as thick as fog, though, and I knew something had to be said.

"I went over to Isabella's to apologize," I blurted out, completely without a clue as to where I was going with this.

"And I slammed the door in his face," Isabella joined in.

Well, I suppose chronological order was a good place to start.

"I broke in the backdoor."

"We started fighting again."

"I… got mad and stormed away."

"I tripped on—on _Pinky's_ ball and fell in my pool." Her eyes fell to her bare feet, and I had to resist a sudden urge to put my arm around her.

"Then she showed up here anyway."

"I didn't want to end things on a fight."

"She was dripping and illogical."

"I forgot I chose that dress today," she gestured to the sodden lump of fabric on the counter.

"I had a hoodie here."

"I put it on."

"And… we're doing better now. I mean, we're not really fighting." I concluded. Isabella nodded. Yeah… that was a good sum up. It was a weird sum up, because I became aware of some shift between Isabella and I… but it would do.

Phineas' gaze drifted between us like we were still going back and forth explaining how we got into this practically inexplicable situation, but what else should I expect? This was weird!

After a minute, my brother drawled out a confused, "o… kay?" His cheeks started turning pink. "And… um… you couldn't put the hoodie on _over_ the dress?"

"Flowy-twirly skirt," I replied, though I wasn't sure what had possessed me to. My brother turned a look on me that let me know he was wondering if I'd dropped from another planet. "Apparently it's heavy when wet."

"And uncomfortable," Isabella chimed in.

I crossed over to the sink, taking the dress and giving it a proper wringing. My hand burned at this, but I once again ignored it; now was not the time to address the issue. Isabella hadn't been strong enough to get all of the water out, and I was able to get a good dose of that chlorine-infused liquid down the drain.

"But… it's white," Phineas said like he'd just registered that fact.

Isabella let out a nervous laugh. "Hence the hoodie. I, uh—I'd forgotten… I hadn't even realized…"

Oh god, thank goodness I had an excuse to keep my brother from seeing my face right now. I wouldn't be able to bear it if… I didn't even know what I would look like.

And now I almost wanted to laugh, because it wasn't until my conversation with Isabella today that I realized how much I used the word _would_.

"_Would_ just the made list," I muttered, and Isabella snorted.

"The list?" my brother asked.

I turned on my heel, holding the dress out to Isabella. She took it, purposefully avoiding my gaze. I was okay with that right about now; both of us had been exploding, contradicting messes—swerving here and there, but always missing a road that made sense—and after our most recent conversation, I didn't know how we should act around each other now.

_Should. _I'd done it again.

"I didn't realize what time it was. I should probably go," Isabella said, taking her dress, and I raised my eyebrow at that dreaded word. "I should…"

She froze, and I could practically see her jump on the same mental bus as I had. She met my eyes despite her previous effort not to, and I thought back to what she'd said a short time ago.

_I need a joke right now. It's one of the few things I have left I can make sense of…_

I realized she was right, because in that second—that one moment when we both knew we were thinking the exact same thing—we couldn't help but burst into laughter. It wasn't even funny, but it was cathartic, and it felt so good. Isabella was absolutely right; we needed jokes.

And it wasn't even that we needed something to make sense of, because our laughter didn't make sense. It was that we needed something—in the midst of all this frustration and confusion—that was actually _supposed_ to not make sense.

"Guys?" Phineas stared at the two of us like we'd lost our minds. I couldn't blame him. It very well could be true.

"Sorry, Phineas," Isabella breathed, and we both began to reign it in.

"What's going on with you two?"

And… there was gravity. Since when had I developed bipolar issues? Because just that question was enough to completely sober me up. It caught Isabella, too, who looked at me like she was expecting me to answer.

_What the hell were we doing?_ This already looked bad enough. No more inside jokes, no more added tension, no more little back-and-forths and twinkling laughter that reminded me of the one thing I couldn't have.

It was like we kept drifting in and out of the reality of this situation. We had to be more careful about that! The reality was that question. What was going on with the two of us? How could we answer that? Because the answer had to be nothing. It was the only decent answer we could give.

_Could. _Man, I wished she hadn't pointed that out.

"What was so funny?" he restated, and I almost let out a relieved puff of air. That question was much easier to handle.

"Ferb and I are having issues with words today," Isabella answered just before I could, shaking her head. "_Would _and _should _in particular. _Could_ too, but that hasn't come up yet. I'm sorry, Phineas, I'm sure we're not making any sense."

"You'd be correct," my brother said slowly. He hadn't moved an inch from when he'd first entered the kitchen.

Isabella cleared her throat. "It's not actually all that funny. I… I just need to jump on any opportunity to laugh, you know?"

Phineas' expression softened at this. "I get it. I'm happy that you have some sort of distraction. And… I guess I'm happy that whatever issue there was with you guys is solved."

I nodded, but Phineas raised his eyebrow at me.

"Is it solved, Ferb?"

Wait… _uh…_

I looked to Isabella again, silently trying to tell her that she had to take this one; I had no clue what issues there were or weren't, or where we stood. All I knew was no matter what had happened today, the bottom line was still the same; Isabella was with Phineas.

But she never met my gaze. Instead she was staring intently at the clock on the wall behind my brother's head. "My mom will get off of work soon. I need to shower _again,_" she looked down at herself. "And finding some real clothes would be smart. My mom… uh… well, I don't think she'd understand if…"

_Oh, stop talking, Isabella._ It was already weird enough for her boyfriend to have to look at her in nothing but his brother's hoodie. We didn't need to be reminded what everyone else would think.

"Look, I have to go." She balled her dress up in her hands. "I wanted to tell you thanks for being there for me last night, Phin. I needed it." She strolled passed him towards the front door, turning around as she went.

"Of… course…" Phineas replied, obviously confused by the abruptness of her departure. He turned around too, following her slow retreat with his eyes.

"Ferb…" she looked straight into my eyes, which was surprising. For some reason, I hadn't been expecting that. "I…" she bit her lip, her head tilting to the side ever so slightly, "I'll return the hoodie as soon as possible, okay?"

I nodded. She held my gaze for just a second more, then turned back around, heading down the hall. She left.

The towel Isabella had thrown to me earlier sat on the counter by my elbow and I realized I'd never used it. Well, it was a good excuse to do _something_. To not have to stand here and drown in the waves of _awkward._

I grabbed it with my good hand and bent down, wiping up the floor where Isabella had stood. This was crazy, absolutely crazy! All that had happened in her backyard, the conversation here, Phineas walking in at the end of it… I was still trying to process it all.

I mean, the first thing she said when she walked in was that she loved me, but after that… It was all a mess. She was all over the place, contradicting herself and saying she didn't love me, but that she did, but that wasn't what she was saying. I didn't know what was true or where anyone stood.

Well, except me. I knew where I stood.

I felt guilty, because I wanted to think this was a good day. Isabella and I had… and that was what I wanted, but… no conversation or understanding or amount of laughter would change the fact that Isabella was not with me. She was with Phineas. And I had broken something there. I had crossed a line I shouldn't have.

"Ferb…" my brother spoke—just my name, then nothing.

One deep breath.

"Yes, Phineas?"

"What's going on?"

* * *

><p><em>RR please! I can't tell you guys how much your responses have meant to me :)_

_And I was trying to do something creative with this chapter. In his famous essay "Projective Verse" (1950), Charles Olson (quoting Robert Creeley) wrote: "FORM IS NEVER MORE THAN AN EXTENSION OF CONTENT." Just like that, capitalization and all. I tried to embody that this chapter. The characters are confused and all over the place, and I'm using first person narration, so I tried to make it come across as a little confusing and all over the place._

_That being said, I still wanted it to be followed and not too questionable XD hopefully I found that balance. But it was just a little experimental writing on my end. All in all, you still got the story ^.^_

_And NOOOOOOOOO… Isabella finally told her she loved him, but ends up screwing it up. For anyone who was just as confused as Ferb was (it's okay; that's the point of first POV) she was trying to tell him she didn't just love him, but was _in_ love with him, and couldn't get it to come out right. Now Ferb doesn't know what's going on._

_Meanwhile, Phineas is asking him what's going on. Ferb doesn't know. Phineas is asking anyway… Should be interesting ^.^_

_Love, Lilly-Belle_


	45. Protective

_Hi, guys! I honestly wasn't going to update until tomorrow, but someone made a desperate plea, and I've always been tenderhearted. However, I might slow in my updates (three days-ish) for a few reasons..._

_a) I'm taking 18 credits, and it's finals time. That's forty pages of essays due, a ten minute speech, two presentations, and six exams._

_b) I still have that nasty virus; what energy I have is being put toward a.__  
><em>

_c) I'm rewriting a few parts of the story. I'm not changing anything major. I just noticed how different (*cough, cough terrible*) my writing was for the first few chapters, and have been reworking the language and beefing them up a bit. So far I've reposted 1-4, and am trying to canoodle my way through 5-8._

_Anyhoo, enjoy!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Phineas and Ferb._

* * *

><p>CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE:<p>

Protective

**ISABELLA**

Oh.

Oh no.

Oh, ho, ho, life was cruel.

Fate, luck, happenstance—whatever you wanted to call it, it was cruel. I was its newest toy to toil away with as it pleased. And it was being mean.

Because everything that already happened three days ago wasn't enough—my troop figuring out what had been going on with Ferb—with all the heartache of that fight.

Because two days ago wasn't enough either, dragging myself through the vet's, refusing to budge from that office, spending hours and hours worrying or nodding off in a spindly plastic chair… only to end with nothing that could be done. Only to end with Pinky dead.

Because, even after that, yesterday wasn't enough either. Ferb's anger with me, Ferb making me see all of my guilt, because I'd gone to him when I had no right to, Ferb… breaking my heart by chasing me away—and for being completely justified in doing so.

No. Not even today was enough. Not even all that had happened in my backyard, and then in the Flynn-Fletcher's kitchen, both before and after Phineas got there… No, that wasn't even it.

Circumstances were playing with me.

Because as I clutched my dress in my hand, marched past Phineas to leave, and opened and closed their front door behind me… two figures were coming up the walk to the house.

"Isabella?" Linda asked, and I wanted to scream.

"Is that… Ferb's hoodie?" Candace exhaled, and both women's faces became even more surprised.

My dress suddenly felt heavy in my hands, its fabric growing stiff as the chemically treated water dried in the summer air. I looked down at the hoodie hanging loosely on my body. It was long enough that I could have been wearing shorts underneath, but the wet hair gave room for questions. And… with the faded Union Jack sprawled across its front, it was undoubtedly _Ferb's_ hoodie.

Ferb, who… wasn't my boyfriend. I—I had to do something. I had to—

"Isabella?" Candace interrupted my thoughts, and I met her eyes. Her knowing, knowing eyes.

I would gulp, but even that was beyond me. I couldn't do this right now!

"I fell in my pool!" I exclaimed, rushing past them and across the street. They were probably questioning my sanity right now—and if not my sanity, then my decency—but I didn't look back. I flew up my front steps… but of course, I'd locked Ferb out earlier. So… I turned around, trying to ignore the confused glances I was receiving from across the way.

I slid into the safety of my backyard, internally laughing at the difference one's perspective could make; the fence gate shutting, which had sounded so tragic earlier today, now was soothing to my ears. I slipped in my backdoor.

Showering was Priority One. I didn't even bother to grab clothes; I just went straight to my bathroom and turned on the water. One would think I'd be sick of water by now, with showering today already and my unexpected visit with my pool, but I found the sound of it hitting the floor of my tub comforting. I pulled back my flowery curtain and stuck my hand in, closing my eyes as I felt it shift from cold to warm.

I needed this.

I took a step back, looking at myself in the mirror. I was sure the guilt would seep in, but I couldn't feel it yet. I could only think about how much I loved this hoodie. I loved seeing myself in it. He wore this often. How many times had I rested my head on its shoulder? Playfully punched its sleeve? Been stupid enough to look right past it time and again? He wore it the first time he kissed me, that day on his bed…

That felt like so long ago, but of course, it wasn't. Not really. But I'd lived more than ever, stuffing enough into that short period to last for ages. So much had changed.

No, that wasn't actually true. It hadn't _changed._

I just realized what was there.

Steam wafted from the shower in a heavy sheet, blurring the mirror beyond use. I was still wet. I smelled like chlorine. And for every princess, midnight must come. I sighed, pulling the hoodie off and laying it across the counter. Next, I peeled off my soaked undergarments—talk about uncomfortable—and stepped into the sweet reprieve of heat.

My toe nudged something, and I looked down. _Crap. _My broken hairbrush was still in here—the poor fatality of an emotional flash-grenade. With a sigh, I picked up both halves and tossed them on the floor by the base of my sink.

The jacket must have been my last defense, the final boundary between myself and my conscience. I didn't make it much longer before I slid to the floor, pulling my legs to my chest. The water ran in rivulets over my eyes, and I closed them. I took a deep breath. I wouldn't cry, though. Not anymore.

I couldn't believe this. I couldn't believe I'd messed up telling him that I loved him. I hadn't been thinking straight, and it all came out wrong, and now we—

There was a knock on the door.

My head shot up. "Mom?"

I heard the door handle go down. "You're covered, right?" came what was probably the last voice I'd expected to hear. "I mean, you don't have a see-through shower curtain or something, right?"

"Candace?"

"That wasn't a no, so I'm coming in. Sure hope I don't see anything I don't want to see."

There was a shuffling sound and the door closed. I scrambled to my feet, poking my head out from behind the curtain. Sure enough, the oldest Flynn-Fletcher sibling was in my bathroom. She gingerly plucked my wet bra off the toilet seat and sat down on the closed lid.

"Sure is steamy in here," she commented casually, and I stared at her.

"What is it with your family and breaking into my house?" I scoffed. Why was she here? Any answer couldn't be good.

"In my defense, you left your backdoor unlocked. No breaking, just entering." She raised her eyebrow at me. "But, uh… This happen often with my family?"

"It's a recent development. Candace, what are you...?"

"Well, to be honest, I was planning on coming over to yell at you for messing with my brothers." She leaned to the side, picking up the pieces of my hairbrush and turning them over in her hands. "But in the time it took for me to make it up the stairs, sit down, and reflect on your general mental state, I decided I didn't want to do that after all."

"My general mental state?"

"I've known you for so long, Isabella, and I know how deeply you care for both boys. I know you well enough to know you don't want to hurt either one of them. Which I guess brings me to my revised purpose of coming…" She put the two pieces of my brush together as if to mend them, then tossed them on the counter. "You're going to talk, _and then_ I'll decide if I'm going to start yelling at you for messing with my brothers."

I realized a pool had started accumulating on the tile that my head was leaning out over, and I retreated behind the curtain again. This… this was so weird. Weird and nerve-wracking. So many people were involved now, defending and attacking and assuming... I didn't know if I could handle having another. Granted, I wasn't exactly in a position to refuse her demand.

"How much do you know?" I asked, grabbing my shampoo bottle. I figured I should continue on like normal to try to make this… as least awkward as possible.

"About a week into you dating Phineas."

I nodded, then remembered she couldn't see me. "Just—just so you know, I… the last time I tried to talk to anyone about this, it didn't go very well." I laughed dryly. "In fact, it was a complete and total disaster."

This was met with silence. Well _that_ wasn't intimidating… I sighed.

"I guess that'd be the best place to start," I muttered. I began with the day of the Fireside Girls' ceremony, telling her about Ferb's distance, my rocky conversation with Ginger before the sleepover, our conversation at the sleepover, the unfortunate occurrence of my troop overhearing, and the subsequent fight.

I hadn't talked to anyone about that yet, and ended up spending more time on it than expected. I ranted about all the stupid things Holly said, and everyone's… less-than-stellar response to the idea of Ferb and I.

"And I get where they're coming from, Candace. Honestly, I understand why they would be confused. Even _I_ thought I was in love with Phineas! But… it was their response to Ferb that I—ugh! I just couldn't believe it!

"Ferb practically invented the word _cool!_ Even if they never talked with him, I still don't see how they _couldn't_ see how amazing he is! I mean, have they been blind all these years?"

_Ouch. _I sighed again, my voice dropping as my heart grew heavy. "Yes, yes we have."

Fixating on the girls was only irking me all over again, though, so I moved on. I told her how my mom had picked me up early and taken me down to some fancy pet emergency place, where I'd waited in limbo for a day before they informed me that there was nothing further they could do, and put Pinky down to end the pain.

This was especially difficult to talk about, but I remained surprisingly controlled. I was out of tears, but I didn't want to cry anymore anyway. Tears couldn't change anything. They couldn't bring back the dead.

"I was a mess after I found out, absolutely hysterical, but I tried to contain it around my mom—hold it all in until I got home, you know? She offered to not go to work and stay with me, but I know she's been stressed about money, and I didn't want to make her even more worried and lose some pay. I told her she should go, and somehow convinced her I'd be fine, but… but as soon as I was alone…"

I shook my head. Candace didn't need to know the details of just how drastically I fell apart. It… it was a sensitive subject, a stage and state of grieving and that only those select few were ever supposed to know existed, let alone see.

I gathered my hair up so the water could fall against my shoulders. I took a deep breath.

"I went to Ferb."

I let that sentence sink in, but Candace still remained silent. Man, she was making this difficult! It was almost laughable, because it made me just a smidge nostalgic for my troop. At least I knew where I stood with them. This silence was killer.

"I know I shouldn't have," I continued. "I mean, looking back, I realized it wasn't okay. I was with Phineas, and given the circumstances, going to Ferb—even as a friend, like I was—wasn't right. He wasn't in the best place to deal with it, and I should have… I should have realized that.

"But I didn't go there because it was what I always did when I was upset. I didn't go there out of habit or deliberate disregard for his needs in all of this. I didn't go because of any shortcoming in my relationship with Phineas… I went because I needed him. Not just any shoulder, but _his _shoulder. I needed _Ferb_. I needed _my_ Ferb, and I don't think he realized that.

"I think he saw it as some betrayal to his brother. And I… I put him in a really difficult position, so I understand where his frustration…" I spread my fingers over the tile of my bathroom wall, tracing the crisscross pattern with my eyes. It was cool compared to the water dropping over me. Another deep breath, and my eyelids shut. "He went completely nuts on me."

I brushed over most the details of his explosion, but told her my moment of absolute horror when I ran out to find Phineas standing there. He had looked so concerned, but I ran right past. Given the time it took before he'd showed up at my door, I told her how I suspected Ferb and Phineas must have gotten into it a little bit.

"The absolute last thing I want is for them to have issues with each other." Then I laughed dismally. "It's funny, Candace. Isn't this what every girl wants? To be fought over by two absolutely wonderful guys? Doesn't it sound perfect, two brothers, both your best friend for years?"

I held my head in my hands, squeezing my eyes together even tighter.

"Isn't it just _perfect?_" I spat. I had to stop and take a few breaths, reigning in my frustration. This was about telling Candace what was going on, not getting upset again.

"I think that's why my girls had so much difficulty understanding," I continued. "I think that's why I haven't wanted to talk to anyone about this. It's like the drop-dead gorgeous model that laments how ugly she is because she broke a nail—the kind that gets eye rolls, shakes of the head, and sarcastic, _you poor thing_s. Because in theory, it sounds perfect. In theory, I sound spoiled.

"And maybe I am, but that isn't the whole story. I don't think they see how tough this is. I'd be happy to grow up a nun if there was some way out of this that didn't hurt either one of them. I'd rather never be looked at by a boy again than break Phineas or Ferb's heart. The theory is flawed. _Expectations_ are flawed, and I can't stand any of it."

I snatched my loofa, kneading soap into the poofs a little harder than necessary.

"Which I suppose leads us to today…"

But I wasn't sure if I could make it any further. Where did I even begin about today? Did I tell her that I…

I…

Oh god, I cheated on Phineas. _I cheated on Phineas. _That slammed into my gut, tearing it to shreds. I suddenly felt lightheaded, like I could be sick at any second.

"Oh my god, Candace, I—_we—_but we were fighting and…" _Whoa, deep breath. _I had to keep my head. _Deep breath, Isabella. _I… I needed to talk to someone about this, and out of everyone in Danville, I'd been handed the best option on a silver platter. Candace still remained silent, and I began again.

The shower, the brush, the radio—all interrupted by Ferb's arrival. Slammed door. No food. Break-in. Fight. Backyard. Fight, then fence. The kiss, the shove, the fist into the house. My reaction. His reaction to my reaction. His departure. The ball, the pool, the laughter. The pure irrationality of all of this. I told her all of it—probably with more detail than I should have.

"So I pulled myself out of my pool, and I guess I should have at least grabbed a towel or shoes or something, but I wasn't thinking that far ahead, and I went across the street, and—"

"Okay, Isabella, I'm going to cut you off there," came Candace's voice for the first time since she demanded to know the story.

_Oh, this can't be good._

"That isn't the entire—"

"I know," she assured. "You can get out and then finish telling me. I heard your mom downstairs a little while ago, and I don't know how much she knows yet. That, and I'm getting kind of hot in here."

I heard a shuffling again. The door opened, then closed. _Oh boy._ I didn't have to tell her as much as I did… Why the heck did I tell her so much? I mean, she was their big sister. And I just admitted to kissing one while dating the other. She should be trying to kill me by now!

I couldn't stay in here forever, though. She was correct on that front. With a sigh, I turned off the water. I grabbed my towels, wrapping one up in my hair and patting the rest of me dry with another. By the time that was finished, another problem presented itself; I hadn't brought any clothes in.

"Hey, Candace—" I called, but the door was already being cracked open.

"Way ahead of you," Candace mumbled from behind the wood. A pink dress, new bra, and underwear were tossed on the counter. It was one of my prettiest dresses.

"Candace, I could just wear sweats or—"

"Just get dressed. You still have some explaining to do, and I intend to hear it all." The door shut.

I never knew Candace had an intimidating side. Although, I couldn't really blame her. I was the mama bear of my troop. Mess with them, and I became fierce—bared teeth, claws, and all. I understood why she'd be protective of her little brothers.

I got dressed, leaving my hair towel on my head, and crossed the hall to my bedroom. Candace was sitting on the edge of my unmade bed, a picture frame in her hands. I didn't have to see it to know which one it was. It was one of my favorites—Phineas, Ferb, and I clinging haphazardly to each other in a line, all smiles as we scrambled to get together before the camera went off.

"That was taken at the Freshman Fair a few years ago," I told her, and she nodded, putting it down. Then, with a quick motion of her hands, something black flew at me, and I clambered to catch it. I managed despite my surprise and stared down at a hairbrush. "How—?"

In answer, Candace shook her purse, hanging off her shoulder. "Fireside Girls aren't the only ones who come prepared."

I nodded thankfully, pulling off my towel and tugging it through my hair. I was far gentler than earlier, which was ironic; I had every reason to be less composed than this morning. Oh… which I hadn't finished telling Candace about. It would probably be harder now—now that I would actually have to look her in the eye.

"Candace, I—"

"Not yet," she said, standing up and putting her hands on her hips. "When was the last time you've eaten?"

I blinked at her. "What?"

"Food, Isabella. When was the last time you ate?"

"I…" I paused. Oh my gosh, I wasn't quite sure. My eyebrows furrowed as I tried to remember. "Yesterday… yesterday my mom coaxed me into eating a banana. I think it was around noon, or one, or something. I don't know."

"And before that?"

I gulped. "I had a yogurt at the vets… the day before. But it's alright. I'm not—"

"Go put on your shoes."

"What?"

"Let's go." She put her hands on my shoulders, turning me around and pushing me out the door, though not roughly.

"Go? Candace, I don't want to go anywhere. I—"

"You have to take care of yourself, Isabella. You need to eat, and I think you need to get out of here, too." She pulled me down the stairs, stepping over a raggedy old chew toy. "There are too many reminders around here right now."

I promptly had a pair of my flip-flops tossed at me. Maybe I should protest, but getting out of the neighborhood sounded surprisingly good. I put on my shoes.

The first half of the car ride to wherever we were going was deathly silent. It became unbearable.

"So I… I fell in the pool," I began, figuring it would be best to finish the story and get it behind me. "I pulled myself out, ran to your house, and went in the back."

I'd only made it to my realization that I had been wearing a white dress before we made it to a small café. Candace parked and we went inside, but I only stopped when it came time to order. I told her everything, detailing the conversation to the best of my recollection.

When my lemonade and panini arrived, I was just making it to Phineas coming in. I was so close. Although… maybe that was a bad thing. Then _I_ would have to be the one to listen. And I knew I wouldn't like what I heard.

"But when I looked at the clock, I realized my mom would be home soon. I felt bad leaving Ferb to deal with Phineas. I wasn't trying to run away from the situation, but I didn't want to come home and have my mom find me looking like a drowned rat and…"

"Wearing only Ferb's hoodie?" Candace chuckled, and I gave her a sarcastic look that said, _gee, thanks for the bluntness. _But when she was right, she was right.

"I didn't want to explain that to her. I ran into you guys when I went out the door, and I guess you know the rest." I stared down at my plate, fidgeting with a napkin. Waiting… waiting…

"Isabella?" I tried not to cringe. I looked back up at her. "What are you doing?"

I'd been completely honest with her this far; I figured I should keep it up as much as possible. "Waiting for you to start yelling at me for how horrible I am."

Her eyes widened, and I could tell she wasn't expecting me to just come out and say it. She rested her hands over the brim of her drink and watched me. I didn't know if she was studying my face or trying to decide where to begin, but it dragged on far longer than I expected.

"Well aren't you?" I whispered, my fingers pressing into the sides of my own glass. She continued to watch me. Finally, she seemed to come to a verdict.

"I think… you've had enough people yelling at you, Isabella," she sighed, and I could only blink at her. "I think you've had a hell of a few weeks, and I think you've been doing the best you can. Most importantly, I believe that you don't want to hurt Phineas or Ferb. So no, I'm not going to start yelling at you."

That sounded too good to be true.

"But?"

She raised her eyebrow at me. "What do you mean, 'but?'"

"My grandma always used to say, 'nadie da nada por nada.' I suppose it's the equivalency of _there's no such thing as a free lunch._ So… if you don't want to yell at me, then… what?"

She sighed and sat forward.

"Isabella, all those past summers when I was trying to bust my brothers, you were always there too. You and I had our talks, and to be honest… you kind of grew into the little sister I never had." She looked down at her bowl as if she didn't quite want to meet my eyes right now, but I was okay with that. If she had, I might have grown a little too emotional for a restaurant setting. "So I care about what's happening to you.

"You've had a rough time, and you've been chastised enough by both your friends and yourself. It's obvious the best thing for you right now isn't a scolding, but a hug and a sympathetic ear. I can do that."

I felt my eyes grow a little teary, but out of pure disbelief and gratitude. I swallowed down the lump of sentiment in my throat and smiled at her. "Candace, do you know how awesome you are?"

She smirked. "Yes, yes I do."

After lunch I was expecting to be taken back home, but Candace wouldn't hear of it. She took me to a nail place for what she deemed were "absolutely mandatory" pedicures. It was relatively empty, and we were seated right away.

"Candace, I… don't think I deserve any of this, but… I hadn't realized how much I needed a friend right now."

"You needed this," she smiled. "Granted, I do have my own selfish reasons. The calmer and less trapped you feel, the better equipped you are to handle the situation. But there is one thing I don't quite understand."

"Yeah?"

She nodded. "You said you stormed over to our house, went in the backdoor, and said that you loved him. And then you continued on talking about how you were walking around the kitchen, and that he didn't believe you would break up with Phineas. Why wouldn't he believe you if you _just_ told him you loved him?"

I slapped my hand over my eyes, laughing self-deprecatingly.

"Because I totally screwed it up! I told him I loved him, but I knew he already knew that because I've always loved him, and I was trying to tell him I was _in_ love with him, and it all came out wrong!" I let out another laugh, this one actually filled with mirth this time. "God, he must have thought I'd gone nuts, but the words just wouldn't come out right.

"I said I loved him, but that I always did, so I didn't, but I _did_, and then went on this whole spiel about the word _in,_ trying tell him, and it just… blarg. I totally messed it up."

I looked over at her to find her shaking her head, bewildered.

"What?" I breathed, a self-conscious blush spreading across my cheeks.

"I'm just—how did little Isabella Garcia-Shapiro, the girl across the way…" She ran her hand down her face, trying to out her thoughts together. "Honestly, I didn't know what to expect coming into your bathroom earlier. I was mad. I was mad at you because you were with Phineas, but seemed to have something screwy going on with Ferb, and I felt protective. I couldn't make sense of it. But…"

"But?"

"Now I understand," she laughed, her nose crinkling like she couldn't believe what she was thinking right now. "You're in love with Ferb. There, I admit that I see it. Really, it's all just beautiful."

If I had been taking a drink, I would have spit it out. "What?! _Beautiful _is not the word I would have used. Everything is a total mess! How on earth is it _beautiful?_"

"You ever heard the phrase, _when you love something, let it go?_" she hummed._ "_Think about it, Isabella. I never understood how strong the tie is between the three of you. It's incredible… you and Ferb somehow fell in love with each other, but you both love Phineas enough that you want to make him happy."

"But we messed up," I countered. "Today we totally messed up, and—"

"And you'll have to address that. You'll have to own up to it and face the consequences. Trust me, I haven't forgotten about that. But for _you_ to fall for someone other than Phineas… it's just so unexpected.

"No kidding," I muttered.

"It proves how unpredictable the heart is, you know? Four simple chambers, but a thousand complicated doors."

I stared at her. "Candace, that was… surprisingly poetic."

She smirked and shrugged. "I hope so. I read it in some magazine or something."

I scoffed. "Oh nice." But I thought about her words, and a slow smile crept across my face. "You are right, though. It's absolutely crazy, but… I'm in love with him. And it's so different than anything else. Different, and even a little scary… After all these years, after all he's done for me… life would suck without Phineas, but I honestly don't know what life would _be_ without Ferb."

She nodded, but I was still marveling at the words that just came out of my mouth.

"You don't think I'm too young, do you Candace? I mean, I can't believe how intensely I feel. Aren't I too young to… to fall in love?"

"You're asking the wrong person, honey," she laughed. "I found my husband on June 3rd, the first day he talked to me in the seventh grade. I started dating him when I was fifteen, and am planning on marrying him now. Like I said before; love is unpredictable. You're going to be eighteen in a couple days. Why would you think you'd be too young to fall in love?"

I shrugged. I still couldn't believe… and I knew I wore my heart on my sleeves and let myself feel much too completely sometimes, but this felt unlike anything else.

"And it's also a little different for you, Isabella. It's not like you just met the guy a few weeks ago. Or, hell, even a year ago. You've known him for _twelve years_. And anyone who can judge you for feeling that way for one of my awesome brothers after that long doesn't have a worthwhile opinion anyway.

"Something like this is rare. Ninety-nine percent of the time it doesn't work. But I'm never going to tell you you're too young to fall in love, Isabella." She held out her hand, brandishing the diamond nestled on her finger. "It _does _happen."

I eyed the beautiful jewelry, unable to keep back my smile. Her hand retreated, and she settled back into her spa chair again.

"Besides," she yawned, "haven't my brothers taught you by now to believe in the improbable?"

I met her eyes, finding a surprising amount of comfort there. It was remarkable how much I needed this... Was this what big sisters did? Being an only child, I didn't know, but I figured this was what it was like. I tried to thank her with my eyes.

"You don't need me to tell you what's next, do you?" Her expression took a more serious shade again, and I knew we were getting back to the reality of the situation. The reality where I was in a relationship with one brother but in love with the other…

I shook my head. I knew.

"I have to tell Phineas the truth."

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><p><em>RR please! Love your reviews!_

_You know what word doesn't get enough love? Splendiferous._

_So this time around, I hope you all have an absolutely splendiferous day!_

_See you next time!_

_~Lilly-Belle_


	46. Stall

_Hey, guys! Sorry about the longer wait. I didn't have a lick of time to write, and you all know how I like to be ahead. Thus, I'm breaking one of my rules; I'm posting a new chapter without writing father ahead in the story than when I posted the last. It's bugging me. But I don't want you to wait too long._

_What I thought was going to be a 5 page paper turned into a 17-pager, and my personal life kind of blew up. Finals. More essays. Sorry, my darlings, but you probably won't see me for a week!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Phineas and Ferb._

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><p>CHAPTER FORTY-SIX:<p>

Stall

**PHINEAS**

The moment I realized what was going on, I'd asked my dad if I could go home. Although he looked concerned, he seemed to understand, and I was on the road less than five minutes later. I'd pressed my brother to go apologize to Isabella, and wasn't even sure if he'd be back yet, but I had to leave. I had to get home.

I had to talk to my brother.

I was part relieved and part disappointed when I found he was there already. If what I thought was true… I didn't even know.

I hadn't been prepared for what I saw when I walked in.

Ferb and Isabella were in the kitchen, just standing there. That's what I saw. Forget the fact that last I'd known, they were furiously at each other's throats. Forget the fact that my brother had been keeping secrets. Forget every expectation, every thought that clung to the notion that there were issues between the two.

This defied everything.

This was the definition of, _what?_

They both looked surprised by my arrival, even though I'd announced it. I realized I'd walked in on a majorly serious discussion, because I almost choked on all the apprehension in the air. This had clearly been bad timing.

And did I mention Isabella was only wearing my brother's hoodie?

It was his old Union Jack hoodie he got in England, his favorite, draped over her form. That was all as far as I could tell. Her hair was dripping everywhere, and water clung to her legs too. I had no clue… I couldn't quite—_what?_

They went back and forth trying to explain what was going on, but it only made me more uneasy. They talked completely in-sync, like they'd rehearsed it, though I could tell they going with it on the fly.

I felt bad, because I didn't like what I heard. Ferb said they weren't fighting anymore. As their friend, I should feel happy about that. But I didn't like it. Now they were all better—but… maybe too '_better_.' I almost cringed at my internal improper grammar, but I couldn't find any other words. Any other way to express what I couldn't quite comprehend.

And… something was different. That weird way they talked around each other. Those looks they kept giving each other to silently communicate—I mean, Ferb always communicated with looks, but those were different. It was far fainter, like a secret code. The way they both broke out into laughter on some lofty cue that went over my head.

Or maybe theyweren't _different_. Maybe this was how it'd been for a long time. Maybe I was just more perceptive.

Dad had been right; it was all in the trifles. The little things Ferb did. The subtleties I never noticed before.

The way he watched her while she was here.

The look on his face as she left.

I couldn't believe it.

No really, I _could not_ believe it.

I had to hear it from him.

"Ferb…" I began when he moved to start cleaning water off the floor. Three seconds of silence far, far more hollow than his usual quiet.

"Yes, Phineas?"

What now? What could I say to possibly try to make sense of this? I went with square one.

"What's going on?"

"I'm cleaning up the floor," Ferb responded, and I gaped at him. He was joking, right? That had to be a joke. He had to know that wasn't what I meant.

"That's not what I was talking about, Ferb."

He stood and crossed to the backdoor, bending down to wipe up the floor again. He remained mute.

"Ferb!" I huffed, following him and standing over his shoulder. Then I heard the front door open, and I stood up straight. "Isabella?"

"Sorry to disappoint, boys," came Mom's call, and she and Candace filed into the kitchen. The sight of them dissolved some of my frustration… or at least pushed it down just a smidge. I smiled at her.

"You're never a disappointment, Mom. Isabella was just here, so I thought—"

"Yeah, we just saw her on the way out the door," Candace said, staring directly at Ferb. She must have caught on to what I had. Or to what I _thought_ I had. "She said she fell in her pool?"

I looked back to my brother, and he nodded confirmation.

"Oh my stars!" Mom exclaimed, seeing the floor for the first time. "Look at all this water!"

Ferb held up his towel in a placating gesture, his expression saying, _don't worry; I've got it._

"You better, young man," she said sternly, though everyone knew she wasn't actually upset. She went to the fridge, opening it and starting to get out sandwich fixings.

"So did you push her in?" Candace laughed, and Ferb snorted. He shook his head.

"She said she tripped on one of Pinky's balls," I said, and a general solemnity swept about the room.

"That poor girl," Mom sighed, and there seemed to be some silent agreement amongst my family to drop the subject there.

I didn't understand that, really. Were neither of them inclined to ask why Isabella was wearing my brother's hoodie? And _only_ my brother's hoodie? How could both of them fail to notice that? To comment on it? I know _I_ sure had plenty of questions.

I didn't quite know what to do with myself, but my mom solved that. She grabbed a towel from the drawer next to the sink and tossed it to me.

"Phineas, help your brother."

I blinked at the rectangle of cloth, waiting for her words to sink in.

"Phineas?" she asked, and I looked up at her. "Did you hear me, sweetie?"

This shook me from my stupor. "Yeah, Mom." I walked to the head of the table and started wiping up some of the drops of water.

Seriously, was _nobody_ going to question the hoodie?

"I wanted to talk to you boys," Candace transitioned, moving to help Mom get out stuff for their lunch. "It's about my wedding."

This perked me up. I stood and faced my sister, a smile spreading across my face. "Yeah?"

"I wanted to have it over your guys' fall break."

The smile dropped. "What?"

She raised her eyebrows in surprise. "What's with that face?"

"You want to have it in fall? But summer is _summer. _Why wouldn't you want a _summer_ wedding?"

She laughed. "Don't worry, Phin, I'm not insulting your glorious summer. Jeremy and I just thought it'd be a good time. Right when the leaves change, and before it gets too chilly. We were thinking you guys could be in charge of it."

"Well of course, Candace, but…" I couldn't wrap my head around why anyone _wouldn't _want to get married in summer. I mean, it was the greatest time of the year!

"Oh, sweetheart, I think a fall wedding sounds beautiful," Mom chimed in. Maybe it was a girl thing. Girls didn't make sense.

Something moved in my periphery, and I jumped. Ferb was suddenly in front of me, wiping up the water. There was something odd in his movements, though… something in the way he held himself right now. He finished quickly and moved on, spot-checking for any more droplets. I strolled around the other side of the table, doing the same. There was water all over the place! What had Isabella been doing? Throwing a miniature parade?

My brother was moving much faster than me, and finished the entire task before I did much of anything. He crossed over in front of me, holding his hand out. I stared at him confusedly and he gestured to my towel. I gave it to him, and left the room. I watched him head down the hall and to the basement stairs. Heading down to the laundry room, huh? That seemed as good a place as any to try to talk to him. I followed.

Going down the darkened steps had a very surreal feel to it. Maybe because my mind was in a loop as to _why_ I was following my brother down here. To ask him… to ask him if…

Gosh, if I couldn't say it to myself, how could I possibly talk to _him _about it?

To ask him if he… had feelings for Isabella. That felt so weird.

But in my moment of hesitation, Ferb rounded the corner again. Yeah… I guess dropping off two towels didn't take that long. He almost ran straight into me, stopping short with a surprised look on his face.

I meant to straight out ask him, right here and now. I meant to just blurt it out and get it over with.

"I still don't know what you guys found so funny earlier."

Yeah… because _that_ was what I wanted to say. _Great job, Phin._

He shrugged, making a move to slip past me, but I held out my arm.

"Ferb…" I began again, but nothing would come out.

"It didn't really matter, Phineas. It's just as Isabella said; it wasn't actually funny. We both just needed a joke after fighting. We were literally laughing at the fact that she said 'should.' Nothing more or less."

He tried to continue up the stairs, but I stepped in front of him, putting my hand on his chest and pressing him back down on the step he'd been about to vacate. Anything I was planning to say was disrupted by a sudden discovery, though.

"The front of your shirt is wet," I said, feeling the faint dampness when I'd stuck my hand out. He looked down at himself, like he hadn't even realized it until I pointed it out.

I hadn't been imagining it right? I didn't think so… I felt the fabric again, at the center of his chest, then down over his stomach. Yeah, it was wet. Not too much, but it was there. My eyebrows furrowed. This felt like another one of those trifles Dad mentioned. I patted the fabric again, making sure.

I suppose it would make sense that he could have hugged Isabella… Which was completely fine. I mean… friends hugged each other. That was a pretty friendly thing to do. Plenty friendly_. _Friendly enough… it didn't mean anything. It didn't _have_ to mean anything…

I looked back up to see him staring at me incredulously.

"If you're finished groping me, Phineas, I have something I need to attend to."

I gaped at him. He knew I was never really equipped to deal with jokes like that, and I recoiled awkwardly. He strolled past me and up the stairwell.

I blinked. That failed. But I wouldn't give up yet! I went back upstairs too, crossing to the kitchen. Mom already had her sandwich made and was packing up ingredients.

"Where's Candace?" I faltered, noticing her absence.

"She said she has something she had to do," Mom replied. "Not sure what, but she said I should go grocery shopping without her." She wrapped up her sandwich in a paper towel and grabbed her purse. "Don't suppose you'd want to come too, would you?"

"Um," I hesitated, but knew I had more pressing issues right now. "Thanks Mom, but I have plans."

She nodded like she were expecting this, and snatched her keys off the counter. "Well, extend the offer to your brother. I'm going to go get the car started."

Ferb would love that—yet another opportunity to put off talking to me.

"Yeah, he's the one I made plans with," I told her. She froze, staring at me. Her eyebrow was raised in disbelief.

"You scratched your ear," she said slowly, and I now felt as perplexed as she looked.

"What?"

She blinked. "Um, nothing, sweetheart. Have… fun with Ferb." She left, and the daunting question of why everything must be so confusing bounced around my brain.

I darted up the stairs, stopping outside my brother's room. _Should I knock?_ But he'd been keeping secrets from me; he lost such privileges. I reached for the door handle, about to barge in, but froze. No, I had to knock. It was polite, and my brother…

Oh, for Pete's sake! I opened the door and went in.

Ferb was sitting on the floor in front of his bed, fishing around in one of the tubs he'd stored underneath. Once again, something struck me as off about his entire demeanor—and I realized it was how he was fishing around. He was only using his _left_ hand. He was right-handed.

Said dominant hand was resting in his lap… almost as if…

"Are you hurt?" I asked, and Ferb's eyes shot up to me. He looked surprised. Did he not notice when I came in? Maybe he was just that focused.

"I'm looking for something," he mumbled, going about his business.

"But your hand—"

"Is fine," he snapped quickly, but then he took a deep breath. His face relaxed, and when he met my eyes again, his were much gentler. "I'm sorry. I did hurt it, Phineas, but it's fine. I'm taking care of it."

"What happened?"

"I was an idiot," he almost chuckled. "A stupid, stupid Brit. A moron who hurts himself."

Well. I didn't know what to say to that. And he apparently had nothing to add on. I just stood there, occasionally rocking back and forth on the balls of my feet.

Finally, my brother breathed a sigh of relief. He pulled out what looked like a Frisbee with the center missing—a shiny, silver O we could toss around a park.

"Ferb, what—"

"Just something I made when I was twelve," he said offhandedly, tinkering with some part I couldn't see with his left hand. A second later, a blue light shone in the inside of the ring, and he slipped his right hand in through the center.

I got a good look at the injury for the first time. There was split skin, some blood, swelling—oh no, what happened?

"Ferb," I inhaled, and something in my voice must have told him I wouldn't accept some dismissive answer this time. He sighed.

"I picked a fight with Bella's house and lost."

"_Bella?_" I asked, raising my eyebrow at him. He returned the gesture.

"Is that really what you chose to focus on in that sentence?"

"Yes, actually," I replied in a burst of courage—but that was quickly derailed as Ferb nodded his head at the device in his lap.

"Want to know what it does?"

Oh, I did. To say my interest had been piqued would have been an understatement. I crossed over and plopped down beside him, studying the machine as best I could while he was still using it. I tried not to look too curious or eager, but he chuckled. Well, I guess I failed.

"I built it when I was twelve and fell off the roof. When I broke my wrist, it was a ruddy mess. There was the cast and all of that…" He shifted the ring a little further down his hand. "They say breaking a bone can become more likely after you've broken it once already. I built this when I was better in case anything like that ever happened again."

I gaped at him. "You mean it _mends bones?_"

He nodded. That… was so cool! Then the implications of his words fell on me.

"Wait, are you saying you broke your hand?"

He shrugged. "It hurts, but not too much. I probably just dislocated something or jammed a finger. Either way, this should take care of it."

I shook my head. "That's incredible. How does it work?"

He smirked, his shoulders shaking with silent laughter. "Well, I spliced some wires from that old toaster that stopped working and crossed them with a hyper-compacted fusi—"

My hand flew out and slapped over his mouth. I stared at him incredulously. Darn him! He knew exactly how I thought! He knew that and what would capture my attention, and he was using it to his advantage.

"You… you're trying to distract me, aren't you," I gasped. "You were trying to distract me because you let something slip through, and you were covering it up by dangling cool gizmos in front of my eyes!"

He watched me with a stunned expression.

That's when I realized my brother would deny this until the ends of the earth unless I forced him otherwise. And I would have to. I had to hear it from him. I needed him to explicitly confirm what I thought I knew.

"What aren't you telling me, Ferb?" I could practically see his level of astonishment pressing against our roof. "The explosion, the fight with me, the fight with… Isabella's house, apparently. What's going on, Ferb? Tell me."

He stared, though this time I could tell it wasn't a stubborn silence. It was a shocked-beyond-comprehension silence. His eyes seemed to be asking me when I became less oblivious. I suppose it was a good question.

"Phineas, I—"

Ferb's phone went off in what was probably the most dramatic, rambunctious way ever known to man kind.

"Are you _kidding_ me?" I exclaimed. I'd finally been able to ask him, and his phonejust _happened_ to go off? The timing was too perfect. If this were Isabella, or some kind of trick or something… "You better not answer that!"

"It's Eliza…" Ferb said, which was confusing for us both. Eliza… as in his _cousin_, Eliza? He shot me a worried look, and I sighed. I waved my hand dismissively, telling him he could answer. He did and listened, raising his eyebrow at me in a, _give me a minute, _glance. I stood up and reluctantly traipsed out of the room, my head shaking the entire way.

Twenty minutes into the call, and I finally heard Ferb speak. "Yes, I can video chat… No, I'm not doing anything… sure. Talk to you in a minute."

When he hung up, I barged back in, but he was already at his computer.

"Ferb, I—"

"Eliza had a nasty tiff with her fiancé and he stormed off. She's a wreck and wants to talk to me. I don't know how long this will take." His computer was already dialing up hers, and he turned around to face me. It was almost like he was daring me to challenge his stall tactic. I was seriously tempted, no matter how legitimate it was, but… it wasn't Eliza's fault I was so anxious.

"I—oh, fine," I grumbled, my hands fidgeting. I bounced on my toes twice. I never was one to be patient. I wasn't built for it.

Eliza answered the video call, and Ferb waved goodbye. I grudgingly plodded out again, sighing as I slid down to the ground outside his door. Ten minutes later, I had to fetch my sketchbook. This wait was horrendous. The darn genius was probably drawing it out…

Huh.

Did that mean I was right, then? Because why would he stall if he had nothing to hide?

And if I was right… where did that leave us? If Ferb had somehow developed feelings for Isabella, and _I_ was dating her, where did we go from there? And did Isabella know how my brother felt about her? She must have. That could have been the reason for their fight… er, somehow.

It was all starting to make sense, and the more he avoided it, the more I was realizing it must be true. Ferb had feelings for my girlfriend. Ferb had feelings for Isabella.

I didn't know how long this would take, but that didn't matter. I wouldn't be deterred. I sat down, put my pencil to the paper, and resigned myself to wait.

And thus wait I did.

And I waited some more.

Did girls really need to talk that much? Although, if something had happened with Eliza, I'm happy my brother could be there for her. Just… did it have to happen right _now?_ For _two hours?_

Maybe it was a good thing, though. It gave me time to think. I knew just what I needed to ask. I put to words exactly what I was wondering. I heard my brother mutter a farewell and was already opening the door.

He had barely hung up before I was standing in front of him.

"Were you actually trying to make me jealous all those times the two of you were… _closer_ this summer?"

Wow.

Oh wow.

His expression told me all I needed to know.

* * *

><p><em>RR, please!_

_Did you know that your wonderful reviews have somehow made this the __fourth highest rated PnF fanfic on this entire site? It's not even a canon shipping! One of my readers pointed it out to me, and I just had to check because such a statement blew my mind! THANK YOU!_

_Now… I know what you all are thinking; _WHAT?! We have to wait even longer to find out what Ferb says?! _I know. I'm sorry. I wanted the big reveal to be in Ferb's POV, but I needed to get a few things across from Phineas first, including a little more information and establishing the proper timing. I was thinking of maybe splitting a chapter, but next chapter has SO MUCH going on that anything but letting it stand alone would be a shame._

_Thus, I apologize. But Phineas has him cornered, and I PROMISE Ferb won't escape. __It's all going down._

_ALSO! I actually wrote a short Ferbella fic today during lunch and published it. It's called, _A Teasing Irony. _I'd love for you to check it out!_

_Love, Lilly-Belle_


	47. Quiet

_Hello, darlings! I missed you! I apologize, but I did warn you about the week delay. Thankfully, I only have a couple finals left. Granted, then I'm moving, but I also am hoping on finishing this up fairly soon. I can't give you an exact chapter countdown, but there should definitely be under ten chapters left. Definitely under that._

_I missed reviews from some of my usual buddies on here. *Poke poke* you know who you are, those with whom I regularly converse… I miss your wonderful remarks, darlings!_

_For those who missed it at the bottom last time, I wrote a Ferbella one-shot called, "A Teasing Irony." I'd love to know what you think! If you guys like it enough, I might continue it… extrapolate it from a one-shot into something grander. We shall see! _

_Enjoy!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Phineas and Ferb._

* * *

><p>CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN:<p>

Quiet

**FERB**

I didn't mean to keep putting my brother off. After everything that happened—everything I'd done to betray him today—I knew I had to tell him… something. The problem was _what?_

No. That was laughable. The problem wasn't that simple. The problem wasn't merely what I should tell Phineas. The problem was _what_ we were in the first place. Isabella and I had been interrupted before that could be established. I hadn't been given the chance to figure that out for myself, let alone postulate what I was going to tell my brother.

Isabella had told me she loved me. She _loved _me_._

But… then there's the reality check. Because then she said that she didn't, but did, but wasn't saying that, and now I was so confused. She did say she loved me, but Isabella loved everybody. That was probably the most dominant aspect of her nature: how much she loved. We hadn't been able to talk about what she meant, and I couldn't rely on what I _wanted_ her to mean by it.

And no matter which way she meant it—as an exclamation to end a nasty fight, as a reminder of why we shouldn't be mad at each other, as an actual declaration of feeling, or whatever—it didn't change the fact that I was in the wrong. It didn't change that she was with my brother, and that they were together, and that it was Phineas and Isabella.

And I'd kissed her. I had done that, and I shouldn't have, and I felt guilty.

It also didn't change the fact that my brother could be catching on.

I didn't know what to do! What to say! _Hey, bro, I kissed your girl. _It was despicable. And even if things were going to end between the two of them, it couldn't be at my hand. It couldn't come from my lips. Because I wasn't even supposed to be in this picture in the first place.

I needed to talk to Isabella before my brother and I got into this. I knew I had to talk to him about this, but not now. I had to delay, had to figure out what I was thinking before I composed what I was saying.

Luck had been on my side, having Eliza call me at that precise moment. It bought me just over two hours, but now it was coming to an end. She was wrapping up her lamentations in the name of work to be done. If I didn't think of something quick, I'd have to face him. And I _couldn't_.

But the moment she hung up, Phineas was in my room again. He didn't stop for a second.

"Were you actually trying to make me jealous all those times the two of you were… _closer_ this summer?"

I blinked at him.

Then I blinked again.

Since when was he romantically perceptive? Since when would he so bluntly ask a question like that? I was so surprised it might just have short-circuited my mind.

The only thing I knew for certain was that I wasn't prepared to have this conversation yet! I didn't know what I could say. I knew I couldn't lie to Phineas now, but… but that didn't mean I couldn't _strategically_ answer, right?

"If I hadn't acted the way I did, you never would have recognized your feelings for her."

"But what were your intentions in all of this?"

"It got the two of you together."

"But was Buford and Baljeet's jealousy theory thing true?"

"Because of it you realized—"

"You're not actually answering my questions!" he yelled, throwing his arms up.

Phineas. Yelled.

I had been incorrect before; this was the moment my brain broke. I could only stare at him in shock.

It didn't take an astute ear to hear his frustration, but it was _Phineas._ Phineas, who only got frustrated when he couldn't invent, and that looked entirely different. I couldn't help but hope that maybe I was mishearing him, but even if I managed to convince myself I was reading too much into his voice, I couldn't do that with his eyes.

It was all painfully there, just waiting for me amidst that lightest of blue: incredulity, doubt, exasperation, aggravation… and finally, some sort of spark.

"It's true," he breathed. Those two syllables grabbed ahold of my lungs, and I instantly looked down my hands. I had spent too much time around Isabella; my fists were clamped tightly on the fabric of my shorts.

A long silence. Much, much too long. I knew it would be a mistake to look back at him. I knew I wouldn't like what I saw. Maybe I was turning into some sort of masochist; I drew my eyes to him anyway.

His eyebrows were arched high, his eyes resembling something like headlights—or perhaps a dear stuck in them. His mouth looked like it wanted to drop open, only to be held up by sheer force of will. More than anything, he was stunned by whatever he saw on my face. But I was sure more than just _stunned_ would come.

"True?" I tried one last time, hoping my brother once again had some crazy misread on the situation. Hoping he might spew something completely crazy and off-topic, proving to the world once again that he was a wonderfully oblivious person.

"You do. You have feelings for Isabella."

And there was my last hope, flitting out the window and down into the grass. I couldn't lie to him now. Not to Phineas. I couldn't lie. I couldn't.

But I couldn't reply to him either.

"Well?" he challenged.

_Well?_ Well, what? Wishing well. Well-spoken. Welding. I couldn't think straight! My mind was a conglomerate of empty ooze.

"I want to hear it from you, Ferb."

Silence. It wasn't so much an issue of shyness or lack of things to say, as much as a general lifestyle choice for me. I often kept an internal dialogue, and if the conversation was falling short, I'd have my say. Otherwise, Phineas usually covered it for the both of us. It worked. It was a great system.

This was something else entirely. Never before had that system clashed with us. Or even worse, _crashed_ on us. Never before had my silence with my brother been an issue. It destroyed my ability to reason, to… to _words._

I stood up from my chair, turning my back to him. I ran my hands over my face—at least my injury felt better. If only I could grab some six-year-old machine from under my bed and mend _this. _I tried to think, but I hadn't even found _myself _yet, let alone a way to collect my thoughts. How was I supposed to do this? I was _not_ prepared to have this conversation!

"No, Ferb! No turning away!"

His hand came down on my shoulder, but I wrenched it free from his grasp, taking a step forward. I kept my back to him. I didn't know what to tell him—not when he yelled at me like that. It was wrong. _So wrong_. Phineas didn't do that.

"You have to say something!"

There it was again. And that's when I realized that this was pointless. This whole thing… was just a whopping lesson in futility.

"Well what do you want me to say, Phineas?"

"What?"

"What will make this all okay? That I acted that way toward her just to be a catalyst? To get you to realize your emotions? That I did her a solid as her friend to get you two together?"

My voice broke, and I tried not to cringe. I was always supposed to be in control of how I expressed myself. I was not supposed to become anxious, or not be able to say what I needed to say, or… or hurt my brother. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. I shook my head.

Phineas was _never_ supposed to yell.

"Just tell me what will make this okay for the two of you, and I'll say it."

Silence. Unbearable silence—though now it was on the other end. Our system really had crashed, hadn't it…

Finally, "You still haven't said it, Ferb. I need to hear you say it."

My fists clenched at my sides. I spun on my heel, turning to face him again. "Why? What good would it do now, Phineas?"

He actually laughed. "Not an ounce." There was no mirth in any of his features. "Not an ounce of good, but that doesn't change the fact that I need to know. I need to hear it from _you_, Ferb. Right now."

I stared into his eyes—steely in a way I'd never seen them before. Though… out of frustration that I hadn't been forthcoming with this information, or because he already knew the answer to his question, I didn't know. I forced my jaw to unclench.

"Yes, Phineas."

He filled his lungs. Then, completely evenly, "yes, _what?"_

God, he just had to make this as difficult as possible…

A sad laugh slipped through my lips—an unintentional answer of its own, in an odd way. It was pitiful in its shaky tenor, but somehow freeing. That decrepit release of those truths fought so fiercely.

"Yes, I have feelings for her." And in case that wasn't enough… "I have feelings for Isabella."

Every ounce of denial I'd built up in my brain washed away with that dejected admittance. I almost wanted to laugh again—yet another plea for something to make this alright—but it didn't come out. Instead, words did.

"In fact, there isn't a single facet of her—happy, or dramatic, or silly, or psychotic, or _anything_—that I don't find absolutely enchanting. That… that I don't love."

I ran my hands over my face, that laugh from before finally surfacing. I actually found humor in it this time—the dark, twisted humor that congealed at the bottom of the barrel.

"That's it, in all of its gruesome veracity. But you know what, Phineas? It doesn't make a difference. It doesn't make a damn difference, because you're with her. You're _with_ her. And I helped put you there."

The last part of me left with those words. I felt a hollowness in my chest—a gaping expanse I'd have to fight not to fall into. The burden of my great secret had been lifted, but that secret was all I had. It was the only thing I had been able to claim as my own. And now it was gone.

My hands slid from my face and up through my hair, and I got a look at my brother. He was a statue, his expression unchanging from when he'd last demanded I speak. For some reason that seemed to be the worst reaction I could get. It made my insides roil uncomfortably, which was terrible; it made me feel like I had to talk more.

"Do you feel better now?" I asked, my voice filling with a pitiful sarcasm. "I told you. Did it do what you hoped it would? Would you like me to tell you anything more? Would—"

"Yes," Phineas cut me off. "Yes, I want you to tell me more."

"I don't have anything else that isn't yours already."

"How—" He started shaking his head, his eyebrows sinking from their once-high state down into a lowly glower. "_How, _Ferb?"

Phineas was glowering at me. He was _glowering at me._

I took a step back. Guilt clotted my mouth. It pierced my tongue, filling it with lead, before sliding down my throat and into my stomach.

Because I could see it in his face now. Because Phineas could never hide his emotions. Because it was there, written all over him, how messed up this was. Because he didn't know how to handle this any better than I did.

And he was hurt.

Phineas was never hurt… which meant right now he was a total wild card. I had no idea what would come out of his mouth.

"How could... How could you not…"

He ran his hands up through his hair, and I wasn't breathing.

"How could you not have told me?" he exclaimed, his eyes shooting up to pierce mine. "How could you not have told me, Ferb?"

I could feel my mind groping, trying to find some ledge to hang on to. Last time my brother had been upset, I'd had my anger to dull the impact of it. This time he was more than _upset_, and I only had my guilt. It took every single one of his words and flung it straight into my gut.

"_How? _How could you not have _told _me?"

I could only go with the obvious.

"How could I not—_this _is why I couldn't!" My arm flung out, gesturing to him in general. "I didn't want this. The two of you are happy together! How could I bring myself to ruin it? _That _is the real _'how'_ here, Phineas! How could you expect me to do that?"

He walked in a quick circle, obviously unsure of what to do with himself. His hand lashed out to my desk chair, sending it spinning around violently, before he turned back toward me.

"You should have told me! I can't believe you!"

"Phineas, I—"

"No! No, there's not much more to say, Ferb!"

"Phineas—"

"No. You can just go back to being quiet now."

Wait. Had… had he just…? I realized my chest couldn't be as empty as I thought it was, because now it was stinging—a sharp, throbbing ache pulsing through my core. Not once. Not in all these years... I had never heard Phineas say something hurtful.

"That's what you like isn't it? Being quiet? Because you didn't tell me _this!_"he blustered, and I could only marvel at how empty everything was right now. "I thought you liked quiet. So you can be quiet now, Ferb. God, I can't believe you!"

He turned his back to me and took a large breath—one that was meant to gear him up for more rather than calm down.

"How could—How—" He let out the air. "How could you, Ferb?"

I felt myself freeze over entirely. I'd never felt so brittle, and the air was suddenly too cold to breathe. He turned back around.

"_How could you?_"

And that was it. I felt it—the snap.

Hearing those words from my little brother's lips broke something inside of me.

No, it didn't just break something inside of me. It broke me completely. I could only stare at him for two seconds. Then I darted past him and out of the room. My feet carried me forward, toward the stairs, though I didn't know where I'd go from there. Down, apparently.

Why was everything so damn blurry?

I just had to keep moving. Then it would go away.

"Ferb?" came about the only voice I could tolerate hearing right now.

In the entryway beyond the bottom of the stairs stood Isabella, her keys in her hand. She was slipping her shoes off, but looked up when she saw me coming down. I guess I should have veered in another direction, but I found myself being drawn toward her—common sense be damned.

"Ferb?" she asked again, her entire demeanor changing when she saw my face. She reached out and took my arms. Her gaze halted me, and although I knew that I _must_, I couldn't move anymore. "Ferb, what happened?"

I shook my head, too afraid that words would bring even more damage and pain_. _Though she was blurry too, I had no problem recognizing her alarm. Her forehead crinkled in worry, and her eyes glimmered with anguish at whatever she saw from me right now. When she spoke, her voice was a whisper.

"You're crying."

I… _what?_

She reached up and took my face. Her thumbs moved over my cheeks, painting a wetness across my skin I hadn't been aware of. I hadn't realized—but she wiped it away.

"Hey," she hushed even further, her words barely more than being mouthed. "It's okay. What happened?"

I wanted to tell her that, no, it wasn't _okay_, but my voice was gone. And even if it weren't, speaking would disrupt the feel of her fingers on my cheeks. They kept me together. They barely kept me together, because I never, _never_ wanted to hurt my brother—and I had.

Her eyes were watery now, too. Isabella… she was the toughest girl I knew, but she was also so sensitive—suffering at the sight of another's pain.

"Ferb?"

I reached up and rested my hand on her forearm, just below her elbow. I could only try to keep myself in her eyes, lock myself there and never come out. So much care was pouring out of her, and it would probably take a bulldozer to move me away from that right now.

"Isabella?"

Or Phineas.

Isabella looked over my shoulder, up to the top of the stairs, but I didn't move. I didn't want to turn around; I was finding my only solace in watching her, and behind me was more pain. It was an easy choice.

"You guys got in a fight?" she inhaled, and her anxiety became a tangible presence in the room. It was so potent I was sure even my brother could feel it blasting through the air and stinging his skin.

"We… it wasn't really a fight…" Phineas said, and I wondered why he hadn't come down yet.

Isabella's gaze drew back to me, a whole new wave of concern emanating from her like a second skin. Her right thumb made one last meaningful brush across my cheek before she stepped around me. Cold swept against my face where her hands had just been, and I tried not to cringe.

"What happened?" she demanded, and I slowly turned around to see her staring up at my brother. He had eyes only for her right now, a peculiar look on his face. This wasn't the frustration from my bedroom—surprisingly, that was all but gone from his features—but something else entirely. Something almost pensive, but that wasn't quite the word. I couldn't pin it down.

"We were talking, and it got a little more… _heated _than Ferb or I would have liked," he explained, shaking his head. "Isabella, what are you doing here?"

Huh. That was a good question. I'd been so overwhelmed with relief when I saw her I hadn't even bothered to wonder why she was here in the first place.

She took a deep breath. "I wanted to talk to you. I wanted to… to prevent something like this from happening." She let out a short laugh. "Well, not something _like _this. I wanted to prevent _this. _I can't stand it… if either of you…"

She looked back at my face, and her voice died out.

Phineas slowly came down the stairs, and our trio was complete. I forced myself to look away from her and back to Phineas, but he was watching her. Since she had been looking at me, she followed my gaze. Then Phineas looked at me.

"We're such a mess," Phineas stated as if it were just dawning on him.

"We've been a mess for a while," Isabella said boldly. Then, after taking in a lungful, she declared, "and it's my fault, Phineas. That's why I wanted to talk to you."

Yes, the two of them needed to talk. I gestured between them, indicating that I recognized this. Phineas rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, like he didn't know where to begin, but I knew I shouldn't be here for this. I crossed the house, on my way to the one place I could always count on: the backyard.

"Ferb…" Isabella called after me, but I lifted my hand in dismissal. They needed to talk. Heaven knew I'd done that too much today already.

I needed… to be quiet.

I went outside, closing the door behind me. The shade of our tree was beckoning me, but I sat on the opposite side than where we usually would; the fence was a better view than the two of them inside.

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. They stung, and I felt ridiculous; I never cried. Never. It wasn't some manly or stoic thing, or anything of that sort. It was simply that it held no cathartic appeal to me. It never did much of anything, so I never felt the need. But of course, I'd never hurt my brother before.

Surprisingly, I heard the backdoor open and close.

"I told Isabella to give us a minute," came my brother's voice. My hand tightened in the grass and my eyes shot open. A moment later, Phineas sat down next to me, immediately bringing his knees to his chest.

He didn't look at me, instead choosing to stare at the fence. I thought this was a good idea; the fence was easier to face than each other. I followed his example.

We sat there for an entire minute, neither of us saying a word, but it wasn't as bad as I expected. Any semblance of bitterness or hostility seemed to be zapped right out of the atmosphere when Isabella came. We both got a dose of that look in her eyes—that caring, stern, loving, reproachful look—and it had been knocked out of us.

Now we just had that daunting question of_, what now?_ wrapped around us like a heavy blanket—difficult to move, yes, but at least we weren't cold.

Phineas broke the silence.

"Is that how you look at each other every time?"

Today was a day of surprises for everybody; right now it was my turn again. How we looked at each other? Did Isabella and I have a certain _look? _Was it stupid that the idea of that made me ridiculously happy? But such thoughts weren't appropriate right now. I glanced at my brother confusedly.

"Oh no," he grumbled. "If anyone's allowed to be confused it's me."

I nodded my head in recognition of this, but had nothing to say. He took this as a cue to go on.

"I didn't mean to start yelling at you earlier. I shouldn't have… I was just so shocked." He rested his chin on the top of his arms. "I mean, I was expecting your answer, but I was still surprised to hear it. And just because I was expecting it doesn't mean that I _understand_ it."

We fell into silence again, but I knew I had to be the one to break it this time.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, and he looked over at me.

"I'm trying to work through the confusion," he sighed, continuing like my apology never came. "I can't say I understand much of anything as to how this happened, but… if there's one thing I do know, it's building. And that helps."

I raised my eyebrow at him, telling him he needed to elaborate.

"In building, you care a lot about your project. If it breaks, you fix it. If it breaks again, you fix it again. You do whatever it takes to repair it." He plucked a blade of grass. "No matter how much of your soul you have to put into it, you fix it because you know how amazing it could be when you do."

I stared at him, watching as he twirled the strand of grass between two fingers. After a little time, he sighed and tossed it away.

"That's the only reason I can tell you I get it, Ferb. It's the only way I can put this together."

I tilted my head at him; _what are you saying?_

He laughed. "Honestly, I wish I knew." He waited a few seconds and stood up, stepping in front of me. I looked up and met his eyes. "But I just wanted to let you know I'm not mad at you. I'm confused and surprised. And, honestly, I'm a little hurt. I can't believe you didn't come to me with this earlier."

He looked behind me, back toward the house, and I leaned over, twisting around to do the same. Isabella was standing in the kitchen, watching us through the closed door. The skirt of her dress was clenched in one hand, the other absently draped over her mouth. Her eyes shone with worry.

When she saw both of us looking at her, she turned around. Her shoulders tensed up even more, and her hand squeezed her dress tighter. She was probably killing herself over a million different things that could be said out here, driving herself crazy with the fear that my brother and I were going to have issues now.

_Were we?_

Phineas saddened as he studied her. "I'm disappointed you didn't tell me, Ferb, but… I'm also starting to understand why you didn't." He blew out a puff of air, looking back down at me.

"I wanted to make her happy," I breathed, in case he was wrong. "I wanted to make you happy. I didn't want to get in the way of that."

"I know." Phineas nodded. "It's _stupid_. It didn't work. But I know."

He started to walk back around the base of the tree, but I reached out and took his wrist. His gaze shot back down to me.

I took a breath, nodded up to him, spoke with my eyes; _are we going to be okay?_

He tugged his wrist free, though not harshly.

"Ask me that again tomorrow."

I nodded; this was probably the best answer I could have hoped for, given the circumstances.

"I'm going to go talk to Isabella."

He studied my face like he was looking for something under a microscope. I didn't know quite what had happened to my brother—what had made him just a little more observant—but whatever it was, it was working for him. He seemed to find what he was looking for. Then, somehow, the corner of his mouth tugged up, just slightly.

"You suck, Ferb."

I blinked. I didn't disagree right now, but I hadn't expected that declaration. "I… suck?"

He nodded once, looking up at the leaves. Then he shook his head like he couldn't believe any of this, and looked back down at me. His shoulders rose and fell once—a sigh.

"You should've just told me you loved her."

And then he was gone.

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><p><em>RR, please! Your reviews inspire me!_

_I tried to do a lot with this chapter. I tried to communicate beyond what was here, both in what was said and what wasn't—meaning in both the words and the silences. Meanings beyond the words and silences. Character development manifesting itself, but in ways still tied to the core of the trio we love so much. It was rough. Honestly, I don't even think I pulled it off. But I did try hard, and take solace in the fact that I'm at least providing you guys with a decent story ^.^_

_Sadly… bad news. I had some file corruption issues and lost the next four chapters T.T _

_I am frantically trying to retype, but as is, I don't even have next chapter completed *bangs head on wall* stupid technology! So I'm trying to retype and get back to where I was, and hopefully I can do so in a timely manner! I owe that to you guys, since you keep reviewing and giving me love… I promise I will update ASAP._

_~Lilly-Belle_


	48. Conceit

_Hi, guys! Sorry about the week __absence. Let me just state something… I HATE TECHNOLOGY!_

_So you all know my files got dumped and I was playing catch-up. Well, I gleefully work back through the twelve pages that is this chapter, and my start-up disk decides to quite on me. That's right… I LOST IT A SECOND TIME. So I had to type up this chapter for a third time, and have yet to write next chapter. *Bangs head against wall* I love my computer, but I seriously HATE MY COMPUTER._

_Whew. Sorry about the rant, and sorry about the wait. Because moving and family in town wasn't enough to delay me T.T Please enjoy!_

_Oh! And just to clear up the name of the title, a conceit is an elaborate, expanded metaphor._

_Disclaimer: I do not own Phineas and Ferb._

* * *

><p>CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT:<p>

Conceit

**ISABELLA**

I've seen Ferb cry twice in my entire life. Both were on the anniversary of his real mom's death, and both had been when we were really young. Thus, when Ferb came down the stairs, his cheeks shining with just a touch of wetness… I died inside.

I knew he didn't know where he was going, moving for the necessity of movement, but I could tell the second he registered my presence. In a moment, that magnet was back—that pull we'd struggled with for so long—but he didn't fight it this time.

He came right to me. He met my eyes, and was still.

I looked up into the dark blue, and found them glistening. The parallel trails of a couple renegade tears striped his cheeks, and it was unbearable to see. I took his face.

I always felt Ferb and I's relationship was uneven. I thought I relied on him far more than he ever did on me, which was one of the reasons I always felt I didn't deserve him. This moment absolved that fear. It was a matter of equity, not equality, and as his eyes bore into mine, I realized I did more for him than I'd known.

I brushed the water from his face, repeating his name and murmuring little comforts. I _had_ to make him feel better. God, just seeing him like look at me like that was enough to make my eyes water. I wanted to make his pain go away.

What I wanted to do most of all was tell him that I loved him—that I was _in _love with him, and not mess it up this time—but I also knew I couldn't do that yet. Not until I talked to his brother. Probably not for a while after that, even.

I couldn't censor my eyes, though, and they longed to tell him everything. Maybe they did.

"Isabella?" Phineas asked, and I looked to the top of the stairs. How long had he been standing there? I wasn't sure, but his expression told me it had been long enough.

He almost seemed confused, watching me with his brother. Or maybe he was confused before I got here, and his face now was simply residual confusion. Whatever the case, it was like he couldn't quite comprehend the sight of me comforting Ferb.

I realized what had happened—really, I'd been expecting it—but I felt the need to ask anyway. I was filled with so much concern, and anything less than voicing _something_ right now would have caused me to burst.

"You guys got in a fight?"

Phineas' eyes widened like a kid caught with his hand in a cookie jar. They flashed with an emotion not quite like shame… perhaps regret. Something had been said. Something hurtful—though on which end, I wasn't sure. Maybe both.

"We… it wasn't really a fight…" my redhead replied, which of course confirmed that it very well had been a fight.

I looked back at Ferb, and was surprised when I realized his gaze hadn't wavered once from my face. It made my stomach all flippety in the most distracting ways, but I had other things I needed to focus on right now. I couldn't address them when he looked at me like that; I was far too weak. Regrettably, I brushed my thumb across his cheek one last time before crossing over to the base of the stairs, looking up at Phineas.

"What happened?" I demanded, going for stern but void of any sting of attack. He looked like he didn't want to answer, which made me even more wary.

"We were talking, and it got a little more… _heated _than Ferb or I would have liked," he admitted. "Isabella, what are you doing here?"

Oh boy, here it was… Time to confront this. I took a deep breath.

"I wanted to talk to you. I wanted to… to prevent something like this from happening." Yeah, that was laughable. "Well, not something _like _this. I wanted to prevent _this. _I can't stand it… if either of you…"

I looked back over to Ferb, taking in the pain on his face, and my voice suddenly lost all direction, slowly fizzling out. His eyes were beautiful when wet—which of course meant I never, _ever_ wanted to see such beauty. Funny how life worked like that sometimes, huh?

I heard Phineas come down the stairs and I glanced up at him, but my eyes inevitably shifted back to the epicenter of my worry. Ferb looked so troubled, watching his brother along his trek to join us. He looked back at me, and I thought I saw some sort of longing there. I never wanted to hug him more than I did right this second, but I also knew—as I heard Phineas come to a stop next to us—that this wasn't the time.

Ferb peeled his eyes away from me to look at his brother. I reluctantly followed his example, and looked over to find Phineas watching me. So… had he just been watching me watch his brother? He looked away, back to Ferb. _Awkward._

"We're such a mess," Phineas blurted out, and it was almost funny enough that it filled me with a strange confidence. Here it goes…

"We've been a mess for a while," I stated, "and it's my fault, Phineas. That's why I wanted to talk to you."

Ferb took a step back, his hand lashing out to gesture between his brother and me; _yeah, you two need to talk. _With that, my best friend turned on his heel and started heading towards the back of the house, probably on his way to the backyard.

"Ferb," I called out, each step he took away from me almost painful, but he didn't turn around. Instead, he just lifted his hand in dismissal and left out the backdoor. Seeing it brought up an entirely new wave of apprehension. What had been said?

My gaze shot back to Phineas. I wasn't sure how much of my concern I was expressing right now, but it must have been a lot, because he instantly looked down at his feet. Guilt wafted from him in a cloud. So it had been Phineas who said something hurtful… That didn't actually seem possible.

"I need to talk to him," Phineas sighed, though he still refused to meet my eyes. "I said something I shouldn't have, and I just need to make sure he knows I didn't mean it."

"Okay," I exhaled, airy and almost too quiet to hear.

"It won't take too long." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Just… just hang tight for a minute, okay?"

"Okay," I repeated, and he strolled past me, joining his brother in the backyard. I slowly trailed him to the kitchen, but went no further, watching them outside.

The time that they were out there was torture. It was more than a minute. Probably closer to five. They were sitting on the opposite side of their tree than they usually would, and I could see how tense it was from here. They both looked back at me, and I turned around.

I couldn't believe I'd done this to them. Phineas and Ferb never had issues. Never. Until I stepped in the middle and messed everything up. I was tired of feeling guilty, though. I wouldn't let myself get carried away by that feeling anymore. Now was the time to move past that and set things right. I had to be strong.

There was another minute before I heard a sliding _whoosh _behind me, and I turned around. The younger of the two brothers was standing there, closing the door behind him. He didn't move further into the room, though. He stayed tethered to the handle, his eyes planted on his feet.

This was so familiar it almost made me want to laugh. It was easily recognizable; this was the _I-don't-know-how-to-handle-this-or-what-to-say-to-you _stance. It was the same demeanor with which I'd approached Ferb so many times during these past two weeks.

But this couldn't be avoided any longer.

"Do you want to talk here, or in your room, or…"

"Maybe in my room?" he suggested, though he gave no indication that he was going to move anywhere. Thirty seconds passed. I don't know why that felt awkward, but it did. He seemed to understand that, too.

"So…" I rocked back and forth on the balls of my feet.

"Maybe… just the living room, actually," he amended, and I nodded. That made sense. A shorter trek of self-conscious uncomfortableness, and less personal than a bedroom setting. He unlatched himself from the door and walked by me. With one last regretful look to the backyard, I followed.

Phineas sat down at the couch, giving his feet a break by now staring at his hands. I sat down next to him. There was so much apprehension I didn't know what to do with myself. I didn't know where to start.

Although, it's said that the truth will set you free. I had to be truthful. Honest. I could do that.

"I don't really know where to begin," I admitted.

"Yeah, I, uh… I don't really know either."

Um. It was a start. I suppose.

"Well," I hesitated, "do you… have any questions?"

Ugh. Lame. So lame. In fact, that was an absolutely terrible premise for this.

"I… did have questions."

"Did?" I queried. Was the past tense usage intentional?

He nodded, but said nothing else. He continued to avoid my gaze. So… gosh, this was awkward. Phineas always talked. He was never at a loss for words. What was I even supposed to do with this?

"Does that mean you don't have them anymore?" I tried again, hoping to get a real response this time. Thankfully, Phineas didn't let me down.

"I… kind of got my answers already."

Okay, well maybe he did let me down a little. Did he have to be so vague? We were both silent, each of us studying some trivial object in the room—the carpet, the remote control, our hands. Anything but each other.

"So…" both of us said at the exact same time, and we glanced at each other in surprise.

Then, we couldn't help it; we laughed.

"Oh my gosh, we're so bad at this," Phineas stammered.

"We're so awkward," I agreed.

"How can we both suck so much with talking about this kind of thing?"

"Because we're both _awkward!_" I reiterated, and Phineas nodded his agreement.

"We seriously have to be the two least suave people in all of Danville right now."

"Even Baljeet has us beat, Phin. _Baljeet._"

That wave of tension that had been trying to choke us dissipated with this new humorous self-deprecation. Everything was suddenly just a little bit lighter, the air slightly easier to breathe.

"So, we can accept that we both are going to completely botch just about everything that comes out of our mouths in the course of this discussion, right?"

"I'm a mess. You're a mess. Ferb's a mess. This whole thing's a mess." I sat back, letting myself sink into the couch. "Yeah, I'd say I accept the fact that we're going to mess up talking about it too."

"Do you feel a little better now?" he chuckled.

"Truthfully? Yes. You?"

"Getting there. If it were anyone but you, Izzy… I at least know you handle all of my awkward-icity well. You've been doing it for years."

We fell into a silence far more amiable than the one that suffocated us just moments before. I sucked at communicating romantic notions; he sucked at communicating romantic notions. I had no clue what to say in situations like this; he had no clue what to say in situations like this. The mutual, verbal recognition of that made all of this far easier.

"I really don't know where to begin, though," I sighed, and he nodded.

"I wasn't lying when I said I didn't either. I just found out that my brother is in love with my girlfriend and our mutual best friend. How do we even approach that?"

His words hit me like Danville's freight train on nitro. _I just found out that my brother is in love with my girlfriend. _In love. _In love. _With me. I mean, I knew Ferb cared about me, and I hoped he might phrase his feelings for me in the same way I would for him, but hearing Phineas say that… hearing _Phineas _say that, well… Phineas didn't toss the words _in love_ around lightly.

I was thankful he had been absently looking at the blank T.V. screen; it gave me a moment to recognize and eradicate the goofy smile on my face. This moment was about Phineas. Phineas, and setting things right with him.

"You said you had questions. Maybe we could talk about those?"

This brought his gaze back to me. His eyebrows crinkled in confusion. In fact, he almost looked taken aback.

"What?" I asked, muddled by the strange look on his face.

"I just toss out that Ferb is in love with you, and you move right passed it?"

Um… yes?

"Well… you just got this all dumped on you," I muttered, taking my turn to break the eye contact and stare elsewhere. "I figured the best thing to do was to clear up anything that was… I don't know, murky for you?"

He was quiet, and I looked back over to him. I hadn't anticipated the expression on his face. It was sad and a little disappointed, yes, but that was almost overridden by a flurry of other emotions. Amused incredulity. Care. Mild surprise. Concern, but only in the most genuine and welcome of ways. Amity. But most of all, there was support in his eyes.

Support… Why was there support?

What was he thinking right now?

He shook his head, his usual, jovial self surfacing in his smile. "Like I said, I kind of got my answers."

He must have seen that that kind of response was about to make my head explode, and made the sudden and wise decision to elaborate.

"I did have questions, Izzy. How the heck did this happen? Why didn't he tell me? Did you know how he felt? What should I do from here, knowing my bro was pining after my girlfriend? My mind was a wreck of questions, and for once, the prospect of seeking answers wasn't all that appealing.

"But in the span of walking to the top of the stairs after Ferb left my room to now, I've managed to find an answer to all of them."

I stared at him. I felt like I should say something. I was curious as to what conclusions he'd drawn, but my tongue felt like the white bow in my hair: tied in a knot.

"I'm still confused, of course," he conceded. "But I'll tell you the same thing I told Ferb; I'm trying to work through the confusion, and I'm doing that in the only way I know how—which is to say, through elaborate building metaphors."

Building metaphors_… _that was such a raging Phineasism that any last bit of awkwardness was abolished. I had to giggle, and in the process, my tongue was untied.

"_Building_ metaphors, Phin? Really?"

He shot me a teasing look. "Hey, I figured you'd be happy I was at least trying to work through this," he grumbled, shaking his head. "But I digress. How'd I put it to Ferb…"

He leaned against the armrest contemplatively, and I was once again struck with relief that we'd managed to settle into this casual atmosphere. He appeared to finally find the words he was looking for.

"With building, you care about your project, and fix it if it breaks. And you fix it and fix it, no matter how many times there's an issue because you care about it. There gets to be a point where it sort of takes a part of your heart and soul. I mean, it's your _project. _Your baby.

"That's how I answered the first two questions. Because I realized that's how it happened. Building is an investment, and Ferb invested hardcore. And considering the premise of that investment—your crushing on me and my blatant stupidity—I guess I can understand why he didn't tell me, especially when I asked you out."

I saw it, shining unexpectedly right in this very moment. This silly building metaphor… well, it was actually the perfect opportunity for me to try to express a few things I had to express.

"Investment is a funny way to put it," I mused, unsure where I was going, but spewing nonsensically nonetheless, "but I suppose it works. Ferb did do a lot for… the building. Sometimes it was ridiculous and would crumble. He would whip out the blueprint and some duct tape and set it right before any pieces could get lost."

"So, he kept the building regulation, delaying demolition no matter how blind and stupid the," Phineas paused, deliberating, "um, _contractor_ was."

Phineas as the contractor… Well then. Why not? This metaphor had drifted into the realm of conceit, but we were already stretching it out so much, I figured it would almost be a crime to let it drop. That, and it made talking about this surprisingly easy.

"Regulation, sure. He kept it regulation." Deep breath. Here we go. "That's a good way to put it, Phineas, but… it's not enough. At some point in time—I can't even tell you when, because… the building is a stack of bricks and never even noticed—the blueprints got carried away in the wind."

The wind… Huh.

Hadn't Ginger once compared Ferb to the wind during one of our sleepovers? Wow. I just reached a whole new level of deep-itude without even intending to. Although, I suppose I just lost any scholarly, philosophical points I'd earned for using the nonexistent word _deep-itude_. Never mind.

"Along the way, you start to build more than you ever expected—windows, and bridges, and doors. Ways to sweep inside, niches to burrow in, libraries filled with words, and pantries full of food for the soul. Things that were never in the blueprint, but were somehow _there._" Yes, that's what it had been like. Who knew a building metaphor would capture what I felt so perfectly. "Does that make sense to you?"

I pulled my knees to my chest, meeting his eyes for the first time since I began my little spiel. They were deep pools, far more difficult to read than they were before I started talking.

"Yeah. It makes sense, Isabella." He sat up, resting his chin on the tops of his knees.

That was good to hear. Although, Phineas had a notorious reputation for misconstruing things. Especially when coming from me.

"Are you sure you—"

"It goes back to that list of questions," he cut me off, a small, sad smile on the edge of his lips. "Question three: Did you know how he felt? I wasn't completely sure that you did, since we were dating, but I felt that you must have. Too many things suddenly made sense, having you know, and I figured it would have been illogical to assume any less."

"Yes. Of course I knew how he felt." Then I thought for a minute. "Well, actually, there was a little bit of confusion there. Some ill-chosen words and confusing attitudes that muddied the water, but… for the most part…"

"But it's more than that, isn't it?" His eyes bore into mine, but I surprised myself; I felt no need to flee, or cringe, or shy away. I deserved this gaze. I embraced this gaze. "It's more than… than just knowing."

Deep breath.

"Yes."

I let that hang in the air. There were so many ways nearly all of these phrases could be taken. It was frustrating beyond all belief, but I also didn't quite have the heart to go sentence by sentence and make us ground out exactly what both of us meant. That wasn't necessary, was it? Phineas had proven to be remarkably perceptive today.

I continued to hold his gaze. Yes, I'd known. Yes, it was more than 'just knowing.' Yes, I'd fallen for Ferb. Could he see all the different implications?

Much to my shock, he chuckled. "Like I said… I kind of already had my answers."

"You…"

"Realized that the second I saw you at the bottom of the stairs—you comforting Ferb. It didn't answer the question of whether you were aware of how he felt about you; it destroyed it completely. You were obviously aware."

He sighed. Ten seconds of silence.

"You were aware," his eyes finally broke from mine, drifting downward. "And… and it's mutual."

I gulped. Well, here we were. This was the crux of the matter. I supposed we had to leave the conceits behind us at some point.

"Phineas—"

"I mean, you wouldn't look at him the way you did when you saw he was upset if it weren't true."

Was this the point where I should outright state that I had feelings for Ferb? Something about that didn't feel right. Before I could overthink it, though, Phineas spoke again.

"So much for blueprints, huh?"

I couldn't help but smile. If there was one thing I'd learned from all of this, it was that life never, _ever_ followed our dreams' designs. Drawn on a page, held in our heads and hands—it was never as we expected, which was a blessing. It was the lifeblood of adventure and discovery.

"Even the most carefully placed plans…" I found myself saying. But it wasn't enough. I needed to do what I had to do. Now was the time. "Phineas, Ferb and I—"

"You don't have to say anything. I don't actually want to know."

I stared at him in bewilderment. But I—and he—but we hadn't… what?

"You don't want to know? _You. _Phineas Flynn. You don't want to know."

He shook his head. "This all started when I asked you if you liked me back at Adyson's party. I knew the answer, but I asked anyway. I did the same with Ferb today. I've been blind to so much, and I wanted to hear it indisputably. I wanted to hear it from the source. I didn't want to be wrong again, you know? But I realized it hasn't done any good.

"So this time I'm just going to go with it. I know. I figured it out on my own, and I'm going to trust my gut," he sighed. "You taught me to keep it simple, right?"

I did? "Phineas…"

"It's okay. Really, you don't have to say anything." He reached over and took my hand, but there wasn't any awkwardness. It was comforting. Supportive, like his eyes before. "Besides, I wasn't finished talking yet. There's still that last question, remember?"

I nodded. I did. "What do we do now?"

His fingers squeezed mine. His eyebrows sunk and another sad smile spread across his face. "I'm breaking up with you."

I blinked.

I…

"What?"

His hand let go of mine, uniting with his other to form a contemplative steeple on his lap. He closed his eyes. "I'm breaking up with you, Isabella."

Was this really happening?

"What?"

Wait, didn't I just say that?

"I love you two. You know that, right? You're my best friends."

Okay…

"Yeah," I hesitated, my mind swarming with his words. Phineas was breaking up with me. I wasn't complaining, but there were no words to describe how confused I was right now. But I was trying to be completely honest. I'd keep that up. "Phin, you know I love you too."

He blew out a puff of air and stood up. He put on a smile, though I could tell it was forced. "I know you do. Which is why I'm sorry for breaking your heart."

"You're… sorry for…" My eyebrows crinkled even further in my confusion. Breaking my heart?

"Yeah. You know, I'm sorry you're so upset." The corner of his mouth twisted into a more genuine smile.

Well, what would I say? That I wasn't actually upset he was breaking up with me? He had to know that. His words made no sense.

"Phineas—"

"I understand if you're _upset_," he cut me off. "You have every right to be upset. I broke up with you. I get it. I'm not meaning to make you cry. You know… because you're _upset._"

I stared at him blankly.

He sighed. He held his hand out to me and helped me off the couch. I wasn't expecting the hug that came next, but I didn't reject it. It felt soothing after he made chaos of my brain.

"And you guys call me oblivious," he muttered into my hair. He pulled back, his hands on my shoulders. "It's _okay _if you're _upset._"

If… I was upset… But whenever I was upset I'd always… go to…

Oh.

Oh, Phin…

I could tell he saw the realization in my eyes, because his sad smile spread to the other half of his mouth. He leaned down and kissed my cheek.

"You're officially dumped, Izzy," he stuttered, obviously uncomfortable with those kinds of phrases. "Hope you'll find a way to get over it."

This wasn't possible. Even Phineas couldn't… not even he was so optimistic and wonderful that he'd…

He turned around and walked away. I followed him with my eyes, watching him reach the stairs. One last bittersweet glance back to me, and he went up.

I stood there.

Phineas just broke up with me.

I didn't have to break up with him, because _he_ broke up with _me_—regardless of the feelings he had for me? At least, I hadn't thought he'd been over me before today. No, I was certain he'd just epitomized, _if you love something, let it go. _What was it with these Flynn-Fletcher boys and their altruism?

A single tear slipped down my cheek, though only because of the wave of humility coursing through my veins. My boys were the two greatest people in the universe. The wetness on my face brought back some of Phineas' last words. _It's _okay_ if you're _upset. It was too good to be true.

Heaven knew I shouldn't listen to him. I shouldn't consider what he'd suggested; it was said because he was a selfless sweetheart, and that didn't make it right on my end. No, I shouldn't go outside.

But had I mentioned as of late how much I despised the word _should?_ My feet were moving before my common sense could catch up.

I slid into the backyard.

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><p><em>RR, please!_

_Your reviews are wonderful bursts of inspiration._

_Saw a few more people had faved/followed; welcome to my story! I'd love for you to introduce yourselves ^.^_

_I'll try to get right on the next chapter *bangs computer against the wall with hope it will start functioning properly*_

_Anyhoo, hope you have a wonderful day/night/whenever you read this!_

_Love, Lilly-Belle_


	49. Patience

_Hello! So since my computer is being wacky, I hand-wrote this for you guys (gasp! Pen and paper? I've never heard of such a thing!) and then typed it all up in twenty minutes. Since this is 12 pages typed, single-spaced, you can imagine how much fun it was writing the whole thing by hand… but oh well. Not to brag or anything, but I feel I have lovely cursive. I __enjoy the process of writing immensely._

_Anyhoo, before I go ice both my hands (I'm ambidextrous and write with both because my brain functions oddly ^.^) to help them recuperate, I hope you enjoy this chapter!_

_Oh! And some of you were confused by Phineas' words in the break up. Let me state: he knew she wasn't actually upset. He was surreptitiously trying to let her know that he was breaking up with her so she could be with Ferb. When he was saying "it's okay if you're upset" he was trying to tell her it was okay if she went to him. Maybe I was too subtle with it ^.^ It is brought up in this chapter. Enjoy!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Phineas and Ferb._

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><p>CHAPTER FORTY-NINE:<p>

Patience

**FERB**

Sitting outside eased my mind. Our grass was dense and soft. The bark was familiar against my back. Light fell through the leaves and landed in patches here and there on the ground. This was the definition of home.

Yes, it eased my mind. My spirits were too heavy to be lifted, but I did find solace here.

I was a patient fellow. Far more so than my brother, that was certain. But this wait was atrocious. I now knew how Isabella felt in the kitchen, only this was worse. They were in there far longer.

A soft gurgling resounded next to me, and despite everything, I had to smile.

"There you are, Perry," I murmured, pulling our pet onto my lap.

Perry was an odd one. He was here in the morning and here at night, but he rarely spent the days with us. Where he went was one of the only questions for which Phineas and I never sought an answer, but the little guy always seemed happy. No matter how much freedom we gave him, he always came home.

"You picked one hell of a day to stick around," I sighed, stroking his bill.

I moved my hands to his sides and gave him a good scratch through his fur, and he hummed contentedly.

"Phineas and I got in a fight today, and it's my fault."

The little monotreme stiffened like he was surprised by this fact—like he could understand. He must have picked up on the apprehension in my voice. For creatures that never did much, platypuses were remarkably perceptive.

I was never the type to talk about my troubles, even in situations like this, where I was largely talking to myself, but everything had been turned on its head today. From the moment I rang Isabella's doorbell to apologize, everything had been thrown out of orbit—no, it'd been derailed long ago. But I figured what harm could come from trying something new?

"I've completely fallen for Isabella Garcia-Shapiro," I told our pet, and for just a second, those lazy, brown eyes seemed to focus on me.

He shuddered under my fingers as I stroked the top of his head.

"I know, right?" I chuckled sadly. "Genius move on my end. It made a ruddy mess of everything."

I leaned my head back on the tree, watching my little friend. It actually felt pretty good confiding in him. Maybe because he couldn't yell back.

I went for that favorite spot of his on his side and his tail sprung up like a mousetrap. I couldn't believe we'd never built something related to that. A… platypult, or something of the like based on Perry's involuntary reflexes. We hadn't as far as I could recall, which was surprising.

"I'm glad you're here," I whispered, and he snuggled even tighter on my lap.

I heard the backdoor open and close again, and after a few seconds I sensed the presence of someone standing over my shoulder. The silence of her approach tipped me off immediately that it wasn't my brother.

"Perry's here?" she asked, and I looked up at her. Now that my eyes and mind were clearer, I could appreciate how beautiful she was. She'd changed into a pink sundress that clung to her torso in a flattering wrap before sweeping down in into a skirt in a twirl of fabric.

"Love, what are—" Oops. I'd have to be more careful than that. "_Isabella, _what are you doing out here?"

Oh yes, that was so smooth… If she noticed my slip-up, though, she didn't show it. She dropped to her knees next to me, reaching out to scratch Perry's sides.

"What is he doing here right now?" she queried as if she didn't hear my question. "He's never here during the day."

I shrugged. "My thoughts exactly."

She shifted, setting her knees to the side and curling her legs around herself. When she spoke again, her voice was a mere whisper.

"Do you think it has to do with Pinky?"

"What?"

She looked up, meeting my eyes for the first time. Somehow, she was unreadable right now. What the heck could have happened to render Isabella—my Isabella, the person I knew the best—unreadable?

"It was just a silly thought," she hummed. "I don't know. I just… Maybe Perry's here because he's sad. Maybe he misses Pinky too."

The monotreme in question nuzzled into Isabella's hand. Maybe it was just me, but it almost looked like he nodded.

With a sigh, she leaned over, resting her head on my shoulder while she ran her hand down Perry's form.

This was so simple, so normal and perfect. Sitting under the tree on a beautiful summer day, her lying on me with a pet between us. Yes, perfect was… well, the perfect word.

But it was also wrong. I was missing something.

"Bella, what did Phineas say? Why are you even out here right now?"

Perry tensed under our hands. He brought his bill along my fingers affectionately, then scampered off my lap, disappearing into the house. Perceptive little guy. Well, that, or he was just hungry. Probably the latter. He was just a platypus, after all.

She let her hand fall to my lap now that Perry was gone.

"I'm out here because Phineas reminded me it was what I always did when I was upset. And of course I'm not upset, but it's where I want to be."

Phineas reminded her? He _reminded_ her. What did that even mean?

"Honestly, I'm not completely sure," she laughed.

I pulled free from her weight, twisting to the side to study her. She frowned at the new distance, but I hadn't moved because I wanted to. I moved because I had to see her face.

I hadn't asked that aloud, had I?

"You didn't need to," she replied quietly. "I find you curiously easy to read these days, Fletcher."

I stared into those gorgeous, enigmatic orbs, a small smirk playing at the edge of my lips.

"What a nightmare," I intoned dryly. "Should I be scared?"

"Perhaps," she replied casually. "I'm finding it to be quite enjoyable, though."

"The 'reading me' part, or my discomfort with it?"

She shrugged, smiling slyly. The gesture only served as a stunning reminder of how much things had changed.

Our bantering reprieve was at an end, however. I could see at least that in her eyes right now. Something big was coming, and I wasn't sure if I was prepared to hear it. Isabella took a deep breath.

"So… we broke up."

Oh. Well that simplified things. Now I knew that this wasn't real after all. No wonder I'd felt so perfect a few moments ago. This couldn't possibly be real. Had I dozed off in the backyard? This was a dream, right?

"Actually… Phineas broke up with me."

I stared at her, my head falling to the side. Words could not capture my confusion.

"Phineas…"

"Broke up with me," she reiterated, biting her lip in anticipation of my reaction.

I didn't actually have a reaction, though. How could I? My brain was still rejecting her words. I wasn't even positive I was awake yet.

"No he didn't," was all I could say.

She let out a puff of air I was sure aspired to be a laugh, but fell just a little short. "What?"

I shook my head. Phineas didn't break up with her. He liked her. And why would he break up with the most amazing girl in the universe? No, it couldn't have happened. Nope.

"You've got any number of shoulds, woulds, and coulds running through your head right now," she ventured, a placid smile spreading across her lips. I blinked. "Well, don't you?"

How else could I respond but with a head nod? Because Phineas couldn't possibly have broken up with her.

"He did," she said, catching on to what was belaying my mind. "I swear he did. He broke up with me. This is real."

It was real. It was _real_? Phineas broke up her? Phineas broke up with her.

"Yeah, just now. Which was when he covertly reminded me what I usually—"

I leaned forward and kissed her. For once I didn't mind the word _could, _because I simply couldn't help myself.

Maybe I shouldn't have, but I had to. It wasn't an option. Every bone in my body had longed for this with it being utterly beyond my reach, but now here she was. I closed the distance between us without a single other thought to any more of those three words we'd come to loathe.

I cupped her face with one of my hands, and was so caught up in the moment I didn't quite know how she'd come to be pressed against me, or when exactly we fell back in the grass. All I knew was that Isabella was now lying on top of me, and kissing me, and that I sure as hell was in no position to complain.

I wrapped my arms around her, prepared to do whatever it took to never let her pull away again. Sadly, seeing as I was quickly running out of oxygen, I knew I would fail.

We broke apart, filling our neglected lungs, and I instantly jumped on the opportunity to study her face, hovering just over mine.

Her eyes were still shut, her cheeks flushed with a hue that would have made a porcelain doll jealous. I felt her hands holding on to the front of my shirt between us, and she was completely molded to my form. An adorable, goofy smile spread on her lips as she took in another breath. Before I could contemplate the distance too much, however, she closed the gap and her lips latched back onto mine.

I could feel all the tension—the pressure that we'd suddenly had to put a hold on in her backyard—bursting with every movement. We both needed this right now. We'd just proven we needed it more than air. _Damn._

But then something occurred to me, and it made me hate my brain more than anything. Because I didn't want to think of anything else right now. Because I had a thought that brought me up short: _what about Phineas? _I realized I'd interrupted her before she'd finished telling me exactly what had happened.

Her fingers tightened on the front of my shirt, a small whimper resonating from her throat… I honestly wasn't sure if I could bring myself to care that I didn't know right now.

But it was my brother. Anyone other than Phineas, and I wouldn't have been able to stop myself for the world. But… Phineas. Only for Phineas.

I brought one of my hands to her cheek and gently moved her head back enough to bring her lips from mine.

Her eyes blinked open and she stared down at me. I saw the realization in her features as strongly as it had just occurred within me; we couldn't let ourselves get carried away when we had other things to address right now.

Yes, she saw that too. We both knew it. It didn't make it any easier, though.

"Oops," she mouthed, looking down at my chest like she couldn't recall how she'd gotten there either. At least I knew I had the same effect on her as she did on me. That knowledge made my insides swell with overwhelming sentiment.

Regrettably, that was when she rolled off of me, sitting up to my side.

"Oh my gosh, I didn't even—I'm sorry, I—" She hid her cheeks behind her hands, but the blush was already spreading to her nose too. "Ferb, I—"

I sat up and brushed my lips against hers—a win-win all around. She was reassured and told to shut up in the most meaningful way I could manage, and I got to feel her kiss again. A win-win indeed.

"What happened?" I exhaled, pulling back and trying to bring my heart and lungs back to some semblance of a normal pattern.

She blinked at me. "You can't do that."

"What?"

She bit her lip, shaking her head and looking down at her lap.

"You can't kiss me, then expect me to think afterwards. It doesn't work that way."

I… mmph. _Restraint._

"You have to at least try, love," I laughed, ridiculously pleased by her response. As far as distractions went, I didn't know I could even be on a remotely close level for her as what she did to me. It was highly gratifying to see.

She frowned, her eyes falling from mine. That didn't exactly bode well, but I was on a rare, nonsensical feelings high, like the time she'd said two in that stupid game of truth-or-dare.

"It was weird," she sighed, her hands tugging on the fabric at the edge of her dress. "How much did you get about the whole building metaphor?"

"You mean the whole, 'when it breaks, you fix it' thing?" I asked. "That's about all. Why?"

She nodded like she'd found a good place to start.

"Well I kind of jumped on board the metaphor train and tried to use it to convey to Phineas my feelings for you. Much to my surprise, he actually seemed to—"

"Your feelings for me, huh?" It just slipped out. I mean, it didn't come as a surprise; I knew she had feelings for me. She just didn't talk about them explicitly. I'd be lying if I said I wouldn't love to hear more on that topic.

She developed an expression that clearly said, _really?_ but I could tell she wasn't actually upset. Her hand shot to the tips of her hair; I'd managed to embarrass her.

"You want to know what happened with Phineas," she said slowly. "How can I do that if you keep dragging me all different directions?"

Right. I reluctantly motioned for her to go on.

"Like I was saying," she eyed me evilly, "I tried to express it to him, but he largely had it figured out already."

"Because you and I have a certain look," I smiled, unable to keep myself from interrupting again. She let out a short laugh.

"I thought you were upset," she mumbled, shaking her head.

"You're single," was all I said in reply. There didn't need to be any more. That spoke for itself. It had cut every last string that tethered my spirit. My lips still tingled from our contact, and I felt like I could breathe for the first time in ages.

"I am," she agreed, a subtle power to her words, but she broke my gaze as she plucked a strand of grass. "But you'll never find out how I got there if you keep interrupting."

She had a point. Nothing could come from this if I didn't understand what happened. It was just so hard to focus on what was sure to not be a very happy story when the temptation that was the girl in front of me was here and actually… _possible. _

"I'm sorry," I conceded. "I just can't believe you're… but go on."

She did. She detailed the entire conversation with my brother, right up to its confusing conclusion.

"He was sorry for the heartbreak and tears? He understood that you were upset? It was okay that you were upset? That doesn't make sense. Why would he say that if he knew… how we feel…?"

The last of my words died out as I fought my smile. I had to remind myself that there wasn't actually an _us _(yet?), and now wasn't the proper time for giddy grins whatsoever. What had she done to my patience? This was ridiculous!

"He knew," she sighed, pulling her legs up and wrapping her arms around them. "He knew I wasn't heartbroken that he broke up with me. He knew I wasn't even upset. In fact, I'd bet he knew I realized I needed to break up with him. He knew—he figured out how I felt, and took the weight off my shoulders."

She rested her chin on her knees, a sad sort of smile on her face. Her words did nothing to assuage my confusion, though.

"But why was he going on like that at the end if he knew you wouldn't feel that way?"

Twenty seconds. One sigh. She met my eyes.

"What do I do when I'm upset, Ferb?"

"We… talk."

We talk. Oh.

_It's okay if you're upset._

"Phineas…"

She nodded.

"Even though he still has feelings for…"

She nodded again.

"So you and I…"

"Yes."

Oh wow.

I was certain my little brother just broke his own heart so Isabella could be free to date me. He'd taken the heat of the decision on himself, breaking up with her so the rest of the world would go easier on her. On us. He'd discreetly let her know why he'd done it without putting the blame on her. Then he'd subtly recognized that she would come to me afterwards. He'd done that so the two of us… so we had a chance.

And he was probably hurting right now.

My head was drowning in that thought.

"Isabella, what should I do? Do I need to go talk to him?"

She reached out and took my hand. "Don't freak out. Don't start guilting yourself."

Too late. Not feeling guilty was easier said than done. I was fiercely protective of my brother, and yet Phineas was upstairs hurting right now while I kissed his ex-girlfriend. I had to do something to make this right by him, didn't I? This wasn't okay.

"Hey," she said, and I felt her hand on my cheek. "Hey, hey, hey, would you look at me?" I did as she commanded, and her eyes soaked up some of my worry. "Just look at me, okay?"

I nodded. That was all too easy to do.

"I think he needs some time right now. You shouldn't be beating yourself up over this. This is on me."

I shook my head. "This is something between the both of us. The guilt it shared."

"You're half right," she smiled gently. "This _is_ something between the both of us. And the best thing we can do for you, for me, _and_ for Phineas right now is figure out what that is."

I blinked at her. She held our clasped hands up between us to emphasize her point. Then she slowly lied back, pulling me with her until we were both stretched back out on the ground, staring up at the leafy canopy of our tree.

"Phineas broke up with me because he realized how we felt about each other, but… Ferb, I don't know where we go from here."

I looked over at her, her thick, long hair spread around her on the grass like a halo in one of those old stained-glass windows.

"I know what I want," she said boldly, her gaze resolutely binding to mine. "I want you, Ferb. I want to be with you." Her fingers tightened around mine, and I wasn't sure if I was breathing. "But can we even do that right now? I don't think we can do that to Phineas."

Now I was sure I wasn't, as I realized I had been holding the air in my lungs. I reminded myself to exhale. Her words were having a heyday in my head. I brought our woven hands up to my lips.

"I want you too, Bella," I smiled against her skin, the familiar smell of lilies, lemonade, and summer flooding my mind. "More than you may ever know, but… but you're right."

It killed me to say it. I nearly felt a pain in my lungs as my body fought to not let those words escape my mouth. I hated for it to be true, especially when it felt like we were so close.

So. Damn. Close.

"Don't get me wrong," she began again, "I want this. Let that be stated. Let it be carved into stone! I want you. I have for a while, but was fooling myself, and rationalizing everything, and trying to convince myself it wasn't true, but…"

"But you're not doing that anymore," I finished for her, marveling at her words. It was an entirely different attitude than the one she'd started the day with, angrily slamming her door in my face.

"Candace helped," she commented, her eyes drifting back up to the foliage above us. The leaves were back-lit to the brightest green by the sun, and it was beautiful. "That's who I was with this afternoon after I left."

I nodded, the grass shifting a little under my head. That made sense. I was happy Candace had been there for her, and it obviously really helped. That confidence I'd always admired about her—largely drowned out by the chaos and turmoil of the past few weeks—had not just returned, but was shining from her vibrantly.

It was breathtaking to see… which looped right back around to my frustration about being so close, but unable to take that final plunge off the cliff.

"Phineas must still have feelings for you," I stated reluctantly, and the girl next to me sighed.

"I know."

"We don't want to make this harder for him." This was difficult. This was so unbelievably difficult. "So… we'll probably have to act… I don't know."

"Like there's nothing between us," she followed up, saying the words I knew, but hadn't been able to express. "Just the same best friends we've been for eleven years. The same trio we've been."

I nodded. "Time to heal."

This was met with a bittersweet silence. After this conversation, Isabella and I were closer than ever, but we would have to keep a distance there. I hoped that someday this would be completely sorted out, but that wouldn't be today.

We would have to be patient.

I could only lie here, appreciating what we had right now—her next to me, our hands laced together. We stayed like that for the next hour, neither of us speaking, and neither of us needing to.

The sound of Mum pulling into the driveway was what stirred us. It seemed late for her to be getting back from grocery shopping, but I figured Candace could have tipped her off that things had had the potential to get heated around here. She'd probably been steering clear.

Isabella took it as a sign that it was time for her to go home. We both stood slowly, her brushing blades of grass from her skirt with one hand while the other was still entwined with mine.

What I didn't expect was what came after, when she pulled my face back to hers. The kiss was short and chaste, but that didn't make my mind melt any less. When she stepped back, I gave her a questioning look.

"One for the road," she sighed. "Something to get me by for a while."

Yes, this was going to be difficult. I wasn't even sure if it was going to be possible, or how on earth we were going to pull it off. But it was the right thing to do.

"You'll come back tomorrow, right?" I couldn't keep the pleading edge from my voice.

"I always do."

She gave me a smile that I wasn't sure quite what to do with; it was neither happy nor sad, but was somehow almost comforting. It spoke of patience, of a promise of something for which I'd never asked. She squeezed my fingers one last time before letting my hand drop.

I watched her walk over to the gate, and a second later my best friend was gone.

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><p><em>RR, please!_

_Hope you have a fabulous day!_

_Love, Lilly-Belle_


	50. Irony

_Hello! Sorry about the wait, but this was once again hand-written. It takes a while! This is the longest chapter yet, and honestly… I wasn't too pleased with it. I feel like it's sub-par work for you, but was struggling to improve it. So… I apologize, and hope you enjoy it anyway!_

_NOTICE: I have changed the cover picture for this story. The wonderful Ferb O. Oche was sweet Enough to create this lovely piece of fan art for my story, and to thank her for her sweetness, I made it the cover photo! (Well, that, and IT'S FREAKING ADORABLE AND PERFECT IN EVERY WAY!) *Cough* I'm composed again. But I love you guys! You fans out there! I appreciate you so much! Thank you, Ferb O. Oche for this amazing art for my story!_

_You can find it on Deviant Art. It's titled _Enough - Ferbella, _and Ferb O. Oche goes by 3xj on there. You guys should really check the real thing out! Like I said, __AMAZING!__  
><em>

_Disclaimer: I do not own Phineas and Ferb._

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><p>CHAPTER FIFTY:<p>

Irony

**PHINEAS**

"Ferb, would you hand me the metal-to-wood fusing tool?"

My brother tossed me the device, which I then proceeded to drag along the boundary between the two materials, melding them together.

"Isabella's going to love this," I sighed, running the back of my hand across my forehead before stepping back to admire my handiwork.

I was just about finished with the wrought iron and oak molding for the giant Victorian-inspired canopy that sprawled over the top of Isabella's pool. I just had to complete the last corner, and then Baljeet could take the light gun and shoot little paper lanterns to hang throughout.

It had been three days since I broke up with Isabella—which meant today was her eighteenth birthday. To say it'd been an odd three days would be the understatement of the century. After that… conversation, I hadn't known what to expect. Maybe Isabella and Ferb would have run off into the sunset. That's what people did when they fell in love with each other, right?

Eh. Weirdness.

I thought finding out that my brother… well, I thought that had been a difficult pill to swallow, but then to walk out and find Isabella comforting him—holding his face in her hands, his drifting to her arm… Her expression was what confused me the most. It was impossible to describe, to comprehend, or… yeah.

But it had made me realize that it wasn't just Ferb. Somewhere along the line, she had fallen for him, too. So much suddenly made sense. The equation clicked. It all added up.

It had been a big blow. I mean, I actually developed feelings for Isabella. I'd had a blast with her these past few weeks. Don't even get me started on what it felt like to kiss her…

That was just it, I supposed. I liked Isabella. I really did.

But Ferb loved her.

I could only be certain of that conclusion because when faced with the intricacies and nature of their relationship, I couldn't understand. Not at all. I could only wonder and marvel, and learn a whole new meaning to the word _deep. _Feelings, thoughts, jokes, ties, dependence, disclosure—there was a depth there I could never qualify.

Hence my new position on the unrequited end of this mess. It was the leading cause of my growing distaste for irony.

It didn't end there, though. There were heaps of irony to go around. Just look back towards the start of this, on the night of my sister's engagement, when she texted me in the garage. I, the clueless one, had actually figured it out. Before things got complicated, I had figured it out! Ferb and Isabella. They liked each other. I had seen that. Me.

Then everyone else—the people who were never as blind as I was, apparently—told me that I was wrong. Isabella didn't like Ferb. Ferb didn't like Isabella. Oblivious Phineas had a misread on the entire situation yet again.

Nope. For once, I had seen the truth while everyone else was oblivious.

I was never really one to say, 'I told you so,' though. Or to be mad at them. I mean, I now understood why they came to the conclusion they did. I couldn't blame them for that. Isabella had liked me for a long time, so—

Yeah. More weirdness. I'd let that thought process drop short.

"Hey Pointy, you want the cake to be ten layers or twelve?" Buford called from beside the super oven we'd whipped up. There was a large bowl in his arms, which he was stirring adamantly.

_Who put _Buford_ in charge of the cake?_ But oh well. We had too much to do to get ready for this party for me to complain or re-appropriate.

"It's her eighteenth birthday, isn't it?" I called back, finishing the last corner of the giant canopy. "That means eighteen layers of red velvet goodness."

"You owe me big time," was all he muttered in response, and I went back to my job.

Unfortunately, the tasks created a lot of quietude in my brain for reflection, and I was still trying to wrap my head around the oddities.

The first night wasn't as bad as I had expected it to be. I'd stuck to my bedroom all the way up to dinner, and tried to state the fact that I broke up with Isabella as casually as possible while we were setting the table.

So maybe the timing wasn't the best. I was terribly clumsy with the plates and dropped a handful of silverware. It wasn't until I felt Ferb's hand on my shoulder, turned to see his face, and watched him slowly shake his head, that I felt a little less awkward about the whole thing.

He didn't speak or gesticulate, but I understood why he shook his head; nothing was going on. He and Isabella weren't—or hadn't… I didn't have to worry about anything.

That was proven the next two days. Isabella came over, strolling into the backyard with her hands behind her back. She asked, 'what'cha doing?' and we questioned where Perry was. I hadn't expected it to be so… normal.

I quickly thought up some plans, since I hadn't been expecting to return to our usual routine. I spent both days marveling at the normalcy. Ferb and Isabella were acting normal. Completely normal. That word couldn't be used enough. And as irony would have it, it was so normal that is was definitely abnormal.

It was like there was nothing between them whatsoever.

"Hey, Phinny!" Adyson cooed, snapping me back to the reality of our preparations. She bounded up to me with a checklist in her hands. "We've finished the inside. All the food is cooked, lights are a check, the DJ spin table is H-O-T, _hot,_ and Katie just hung the last of the exploding streamers."

So I knew Isabella had warned me many a times against explosives, but I couldn't help myself. The streamers lit themselves on fire in all the hues of the rainbow—in a very safe, non-smoking and non-harmful way, of course—until the end of the party, when they would explode into confetti.

Every year Ferb and I forewent presents for Isabella, instead throwing her the most rocking, unforgettable, blow-the-roof-off (parent-approved) party ever seen in Danville. This year would be no different.

Well, actually scratch that. This year was very different, because I had feelings for her. I had feelings for her, but chose to break up with her anyway. But that was the lesson in all of this, I supposed. I chose. And now I was choosing to stick with my favorite two words: carpe diem.

I poured every ounce or heartbreak I had into making Isabella's eighteenth birthday party the best one yet. She was my best friend, and—

Ferb interrupted my thoughts, tapping me on the shoulder and gesturing to the gate where a deliveryman stood, most likely awaiting my signature.

"Thanks," I replied, meeting my brother's gaze. There was a carefulness about him right now—a love, understanding, and appreciation that he was watchful to keep discreet. It reminded me to amend my earlier thought process; Isabella was _one_ of my best friends.

It was that idea that kept me going as relatively hitch-free as I had been these past three days; my best friends must have cared about me a lot to go through all these complications and conflicts. They were trying not to hurt me.

That didn't mean they succeeded, of course. It also didn't mean there wasn't tension, either. Yes, the two of them had been acting just as they always had for the past eleven years, but I knew there should be more there. That knowledge—how could I possibly forget that _they'd fallen for each other?_—was enough to make this difficult, regardless of the comfort I found from the fact that they didn't start something between them the second we'd broken up.

I didn't have time to get caught up in all of this right now, though. We were running a tight schedule, and we'd need every second we had before the birthday girl came home from her 'distraction shopping day' with Ginger. I crossed over and signed the paper for the deliveryman, and hundreds of samur lilies were left on Ms. Garcia-Shapiro's front lawn.

After I realized how much she loved them, I thought they'd be an excellent addition to the party. I hadn't thought about how exactly to handle them in a timely matter, though. It was a bit of a pickle.

My brother was suddenly next to me again, holding out a purple, plastic gun that looked like it came with a kid's fast food meal.

"What's this?" I asked him, a smile already spreading across my face.

"Modified," was all he said in response, nodding his head toward the flowers.

That was all I needed to hear. I pointed the device at the flowers and pulled the trigger. In a flash, they disappeared.

"Sweet," I laughed, facing my brother. "I bet you designed this so I could point and shoot where I want the flowers to be, didn't you? This is perfect."

He smirked and nodded, and I resisted the urge to hug him.

See, this was why we always worked. We had a system. I had the crazy, over-the-top, impossible ideas, and Ferb had the pragmatic touch the make them real. It was comforting to see that hadn't been destroyed by recent events.

Destroyed.

Maybe that was a little melodramatic. I mean… it wasn't that bad, right? So I become crazy about a girl, and then found out that my brother had fallen for her, too, and that it was a mutual feeling between the two of them, and no one told me about it until I was in too deep. But I broke up with her anyway—probably taking myself out of the equation like my brother had before—so that they could be together.

Hm.

Well, maybe it wasn't so melodramatic after all. I had a right to be upset.

But it was also me. Just because I had the right didn't mean I'd jump on the opportunity. I was hurt, but I only allowed myself to be upset that first night. The past few days, that feeling had been allayed by the difference in my brother.

Don't get me wrong, he was trying to be subtle. He and Isabella must have agreed that they'd try to act as ordinary as possible, but his overall demeanor had definitely changed. The old Ferb was back—hindered by the frustrations of watching me with Isabella—but it was also more. He… I don't know. Was it too cliché to say he had more of a spring in his step?

I walked back into Isabella's backyard and passed the flower gun over to Adyson.

"Run this under our multiplication ray and distribute one to the rest of the girls. I want flowers all over the fences, the sides of the house, along the gazebo—heck, anywhere you can put them."

"Okey dokey, Phinny," she replied, but there was an odd look on her face. It was… sympathetic? She gave me a quick hug that seemed… pointed. One of those, _it'll be okay,_ kind of things that wasn't necessarily asked for. I'd be lying if I said it didn't make me just a smidge uncomfortable; just because we'd broken up didn't mean I was fragile.

The Fireside Girls had all been really surprised at the news of the breakup—and yet not very surprised at all. What was weird was that _I _had been the one to break up with Isabella, and yet the troop seemed to be taking my side in things.

I suppose they must have known Isabella had feelings for Ferb. They were her troop, so it made sense. I hadn't expected them to be so supportive of me after I broke up with their friend, though. It was a little awkward, to be honest. Shouldn't they have been on her side?

Scratch that. Why did there have to be any sides in the first place? The entire reason I broke up with her was because it was what was best for her. I could tell that she'd needed it. In fact, I realized she probably would have broken up with me, and I didn't want her to face all the guilt and bad-rep that would come from that decision.

If I—being the one to know them the best—had a hard time understanding how everything between her and my brother came to be, the rest of Danville wouldn't get it at all. It was a surprisingly sticky situation.

Ick. Drama. I didn't do drama. Back to the party. It was looking awesome. I was good at this.

"You bests come look at this, Dinner Bell," Buford called to me, standing back to marvel at the masterpiece of a cake he'd made. It was sitting on a table we'd set up along her fence. For such a manly hot head, Buford was maybe the most feminine of all us guys. Ah, finally—a piece of irony I could actually appreciate today.

"Wow, Byoof," I whistled. The cake really did look amazing. "I don't know what to say."

"You better be appreciative. Thanks to me and that super oven, your girlfriend's gonna' have the best birthday cake ever known to mankind."

I tried not to cringe. I should have expected it, since it was Buford, but he had been the one to give me the hardest time about how everything went down. I thought that maybe he was in denial, or something.

Baljeet obviously figured things out the night we played video games, but I reckoned Buford was still in the dark as to why exactly I'd broken up with Isabella. Given how my brother and she had been acting—and… my own personal lack of comfort with the topic—I couldn't find it within myself to explain it all to him.

"You know we're not—"

"Yeah, yeah. Save your breath. So, what? Was she not good in bed? Or maybe she was just too wild for you to handle, huh?"

I gaped at him. Did he—did he seriously just take it _there?_ Oh, gosh, no… Just, Buford… no. Thank goodness the girls were inside right now. I felt my cheeks melting. How could he even—just, _no! _

I had no clue what to say, but then I saw Ferb slowly start making his way in the bully's direction.

Oh ho ho… Oh boy.

If _I _didn't like what Buford had been implying there, I didn't even want to know what my brother…

"I wouldn't continue that thought process if I were you," Baljeet laughed from across the pool, where he paused his light-hanging to watch his best friend. Although his words were warning, his tone was amused, like he was all-too-eager to see Buford continue with his vulgarity.

What was terribly awkward before was laughable now; Buford was completely ignorant to the fact that talking about Isabella in any inappropriate way would not lead to him having to deal with _me. _No… he was blissfully unaware of whom he would really be insulting here.

Poor guy. Although, I must say if felt pretty good to not be the blind one, for once.

"I'd listen to Baljeet if I were you," I advised, rubbing the back of my neck. My brother came to a stop next to the bully, looking deceptively casual. Buford wouldn't think twice about it.

"Well given how girlie's felt for you forever, I'm just sayin'. If you got the best steak, you don't throw it to the dogs." He grinned at me impishly. "You got the meat, you dig in. Maybe add a little of your own sauce, if ya' catch my drift."

Ferb's eyebrow rose, eyeing Buford dangerously. The subject of such a glare wasn't focused on him, however.

"Trust me, Buford, you don't want to—"

"And after I told ya' to wrap it before you tap it, I figured—"

"Please, Byoof, you really need to stop, or—"

"Hey, I ain't trying to hurt no one's feelings. All I'm saying is that if I'd had such a hot piece of ass, I'd of—"

Ferb's hand gently came down on the bully's shoulder, and half a second later, Buford collapsed on the ground, completely unconscious. Without a word or a glance at Baljeet or me, he turned around and returned to whatever task he'd been completing.

Well… um.

"Hey, Ferb," I called awkwardly. Though he didn't say anything, I knew he was listening, so I continued. "We're expecting everyone here in an hour. What are we supposed to do with a body lying on the ground?"

"Push him under the table," Baljeet suggested perhaps a little too gleefully.

"He weighs around two hundred pounds. I don't think I can push him anywhere." I looked back at our Indian friend desperately.

He sighed and crossed the backyard. Ferb gave zero indication that he was going to help, instead tying a pink bow around a box on the present table, so Baljeet and I did our best. Given the time restraints we were under, taking fifteen minutes to push our friend's hulking form under the table probably wasn't the best idea.

Oh well. We couldn't change it, and there was no longer any time to dwell.

That hour came and went quickly. It seemed like no time at all before the first wave of people—easily one hundred, and many would show up later—started arriving. Yeah, Ferb and I's parties had developed… quite the reputation.

Isabella arrived early on in the guests, wearing an icy blue sundress she must have just bought on her shopping excursion with Ginger. She wore a sapphire pendant around her neck—her eighteenth birthday present from her mother. It was rare that we saw her in blue, and she was absolutely stunning. The hue of her dress made her eyes shine, even from across the yard.

The sight of her so beautiful right now made my insides ache, but I nudged Ferb anyway. He stopped fidgeting with the _Happy Birthday Isabella _banner he'd recently hung up, and the look on his face when he turned around was enough to vindicate every action I'd taken since the moment I realized this thing between them was a two-way street.

My brother looked absolutely dumbstruck, staring across at the birthday girl weaving her way though the crowd to try and reach us. He regained control of his expression within a second, but I could see the spark in his eyes when she was close enough to call out, "Phineas! Ferb!"

She threw her arms around both of us for a massive hug. My brother and I were eager to return the gesture, though I'd be lying if I said it wasn't weird. I watched Ferb over the top of her head, expecting some awkward or apologetic glance, but his eyes never wavered from our favorite girl. There was a smile on his face that wasn't there before.

Isabella pulled back, her eyes gleaming.

"Guys, this is so… I don't even know what to say! The lilies, the floating lanterns, the giant, Victorian gazebo, the DJ, the fire streamers—I couldn't picture anything more… it's just so perfect!"

She bounced on her toes twice before capturing us both in yet another bone-crushing hug.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!" she gushed, still bouncing even though her arms were around us, and I couldn't help but laugh. She turned on her heel, clasping her hands in front of her and surveying the party again. "I can't believe you did all this!"

"Of course," I responded, taking a step forward and putting my hand on her shoulder. She beamed at me, and I let the statement, _it's what friends do,_ remain unsaid. "You only turn eighteen once, right?"

"Si, si, si, this is true," Vivian began, approaching us and pulling her daughter into a close embrace. "Mi bebelita is an adult now. I'm going to cry! I can't believe it. And look at you in this dress! Que linda, my little girl. It seems just yesterday you were—"

"I know, Mama," Isabella laughed. "Guess what? Now I can go to 'big people' jail."

Vivian pulled back, eyeing her reproachfully. "Isa, do not tell your Mami that! I'll have nightmares for weeks! I don't want to hear such a thing."

"You have a point, Izzy," I chimed in. "There's a lot of things you can do now!"

Most of our other friends—other than Buford, since I didn't think he'd woken up yet—made their way in our direction and now joined in the conversation.

"You can vote and finally become an efficacious citizen!" Baljeet stated.

"Buy a lottery ticket."

"Sign yourself out of school!"

"Why on earth would she want to do that?" Baljeet exclaimed, scandalized by Katie's contribution.

"I can finally buy liquid whiteout," the birthday girl giggled, going along with it. "Or that air they sell in a can to clean computers."

"You can buy cigarettes." Adyson smiled playfully at Vivian, obviously meaning to ruffle her feathers. "Or get a tattoo. Or a piercing."

"Adyson," Isabella chided, shaking her head, but she was laughing along with everyone else. Adyson wasn't finished, though.

"Oh! You can also legally star in a porno! Wouldn't that be fun!"

"Ay dios mio, I think I need to leave this conversation now," Vivian muttered, her hand pressed to her forehead.

"Hey, you can finally buy stuff off commercials," I added quickly, hoping to save her mother from a heart attack. Isabella had the same idea, putting a calming hand on the older woman's shoulder.

"Oh, Mama, guess what else? I can officially sit in the hot tub at the neighborhood pool without breaking the rules!"

"Oh yes, now you're living life on the edge," Ferb chuckled, speaking for the first time.

His sarcastic comment only fueled the fit of laughter that befell us all. Ah, good times.

Vivian excused herself from our presence, making her way towards some of her extended family. New people were arriving by the minute, and if this kept up, we'd have to activate our teleportadoor—a gateway we set up that connected their backyard to a warehouse to help with crowd control. Given how many people Isabella, Ferb, and I had helped through the years, we had countless friends. Far more than the Garcia-Shapiro household could manage.

As if to prove the point, a giant Hispanic family walked in the back gates, and I recognized one of Isabella's aunts. Isabella took off to greet them, and Gretchen followed to help take the presents back to the present table.

As soon as the birthday girl was apart from us, Adyson turned a hawk-like gaze upon my brother and me.

"So what's going on? What exactly is your guys' deal?"

I gulped. It wasn't hard to know what she really wanted information on. But I was known for being oblivious, right? I could get away with playing dumb regarding what she was talking about. "I don't know about Ferb, but my deal with the fire department is that when we reach two hundred people, we're going to turn on the teleportadoor."

My brother tugged on my sleeve and gestured toward the rest of the party.

"You're right, bro." I turned toward Adyson, giving her my most polite farewell smile. "We've just about reached that capacity. We've got to turn it on."

Ferb and I left, both of us relieved to have avoided that whole situation. Who knew what Adyson would have demanded of us? We were still trying to figure out just how to navigate all of this. We didn't need the Fireside Girls more involved.

"She posed a good question," Ferb commented as we stopped in front of the teleportadoor. It looked like any standard wooden garden arch, but once we plugged it in, it would become a gateway to a giant dance floor we set up in a warehouse downtown. All you had to do was walk through it, and, _bam!_ Instant teleportation.

"I know," I replied simply, shading my eyes from the flash of light that told me the door was now up and running.

"Now isn't a good time to talk about it, though," he said flatly.

Not really. Although, there was something in his voice that made me think he wanted to talk about it. That silent question he'd asked me in the backyard of, _are we going to be okay? _hadn't come up again since I'd brushed it off.

He did deserve an answer, whether it was a good time for one or not.

"There is no deal needed." I stood up, facing my brother. "You and me… we're good. The three of us are functioning." Hm… functioning? "I mean, we're a little dysfunctional, but we're still on our feet. And I love you guys. Nothing would change that, you know?"

Ferb pulled me into a hug, and I blinked in surprise, but didn't wait too long before returning it. My brother had always been a man of action; he let those three seconds speak for itself before he pulled back.

He smirked, and I figured that was a good place to leave it. We had a party to enjoy, after all.

Before we completely rejoined everyone else, though, I had an overwhelming urge to do something. After all, how many opportunities had life presented for me to mess with my ever-collected brother? I simply had to.

"Besides," I remarked as casually as possible, "it's not like I get nothing out of this. You should have seen your face when you first saw her tonight."

Ferb stopped in his tracks, his eyebrows lifting incredulously.

"I'm sorry, are… are you actually trying to _tease me?_"

"Did you look like a lovestruck puppy earlier? The answer to both of these questions would be yes."

My brother blinked at me, and it looked like he didn't know how to respond to that. It took six seconds.

"That's a load of tosh," he muttered… and I felt like I just might have actually succeeded in embarrassing him a little. He strolled resolutely past me and back to the present table, where he picked up the box with the pink ribbon he'd been tying earlier.

Wow. That was actually pretty enjoyable. Ferb was always perfect—nothing to tease there. There _used to be_ nothing to tease there, at least. Maybe something positive could come from this mess after all. Something to help ease the transition from heartbreak to heartmend. I could have fun with this.

I chuckled to myself, watching my brother for as long as I could until he disappeared into the crowd.

After making a couple rounds, I met back up with Baljeet and the gang. Surprisingly, Buford was with them, and he looked ticked.

"What the hell happened?" he blustered, his face red and his hands clenched at his sides. I couldn't help but laugh.

"You went a little too far. But in our defense, we did try to warn you."

"But how'd a shrimp like you—"

"Hey, I didn't do anything," I responded quickly, raising my hands in a defensive gesture.

"Ferb dropped you like a sack full of textbooks," Baljeet blurted out quickly, doubling over and clutching his sides in his mirth. "If I were you, I would not talk about Isabella in any pejorative manner around him."

"What'd he care?" Buford stuttered, obviously having difficulty coming to grips with the fact that he'd been taken down in the blink of an eye.

At the question, Baljeet looked to me, telling me this was my job. Before I could think of how to explain things to him, though, he kept talking.

"Where is the damn Brit?" He cracked his knuckles menacingly. "We need to have some words."

"Oh, cut the false bravado," Baljeet quipped. "We all know you would never dare cross Ferb. He would drop you just as quickly as he did earlier whether you saw him coming or not."

The bully grabbed the front of our Indian friend's shirt. "I could still drop you, nerd."

Baljeet chuckled nervously, stuttering out placating little phrases, but I interfered before any damage could be done.

"I broke up with her for Ferb."

Well. What better way than the blunt way? Buford stared at me in surprise.

"What?"

I shrugged. "Where you go with that fact is on you. I would just… watch how you talk about Isabella. _I_ can't do anything about your foul language, but Ferb…"

"Could kick your posterior," Baljeet finished for me. Really, he was taking far too much glee in such prospects. Revenge of the nerd, I supposed.

Buford was still staring at me.

"Wait a minute, Pointy. You ain't sayin'…"

I smiled to the best of my abilities. "Sometimes the best things to do aren't the easiest."

Baljeet slung his arm around my shoulders. "Let us party, yes?"

Well, that was an awkward transition, but I wasn't complaining. I'd let Buford connect his own dots.

Tonight was beautiful, and this party really was killer. We walked around and mingled. Isabella came and went from our group as guests demanded. Somewhere along the line—and of course Buford claims no guilt in it—Baljeet ended up shoved in the pool. Most the Fireside Girls took that as a sign it was a good time to swim. It was a blast.

A ways into the night I realized I hadn't seen Ferb or Isabella for a little while, but… I also knew I couldn't bring myself to wonder where they were. Not yet. There were some things I'd be alright staying in the dark about.

I wouldn't focus on anything negative.

I would ignore the hurt, the ironies, and the judgments of those who wouldn't understand, and tried to take solace in the awesome moment of summer that surrounded us.

I'd lost her, but I hadn't lost _them_. Ferb and Isabella and I… we were solid. I had to keep telling myself that.

And I hadn't lied in what I said to Buford; sometimes the best things to do weren't the easiest. I had a growing appreciation for subtleties as of late. Although it wasn't easy, seeing all the little signs that Isabella and Ferb cared for each other made me know one thing with absolute certainty; it was all for the best.

* * *

><p>RR, please!

Your reviews have slowed pretty drastically, and I just want you to know that they really do make a difference ^.^ They are wonderful hugs! Haha… I have bandaids on my fingers for writing so much! (But… I'd do that anyway; I simply love writing that much!)

I once again apologize for the *meh* chapter. There was so much I needed to cover and get across, and parties in general are hectic and all over the place. I wasn't pleased with it whatsoever :( But! I do hope you still liked it.

Tune in next time… Same Bat time, same Bat channel!

Or maybe sooner… I'm already six pages into the next chapter! (*Tear* I long to be four chapters ahead again… but computer issues trump my own desires).

See you soon!

Love, Lilly-Belle


	51. Unswerving

_Hello, darlings! I'm touched that you guys thought so highly of my last chapter; it was very reassuring. Thank you!_

_One of my guests had a question, and I am here to answer it; Ferb is eighteen. Phineas started at seventeen at the beginning of summer, and ends at eighteen (I simply didn't write about his __birthday). If you'd like to know when I established Ferb was eighteen, I know I mentioned it once in chapter 15, and a few other times (though 15 is the only one I can specifically remember). I apologize for the confusion._

_Also, there's a difference in whether I use "twelve years" or "eleven years." It's not an error; it's intentional. She's known Phineas for twelve, and Ferb for eleven, since she met him first._

_**IMPORTANT:** So, I was writing this, and absolutely adored where this chapter ended. My gut was telling me it was Enough. Thus, I am cutting out chapters 52-54. There will be one more chapter after this, and it will be the Epilogue. However, I am not completely scrapping 52-54. They detail the events of Candace's wedding, and will probably be a simple three-shot that I will publish as a separate entity. Maybe I'll call it "More than Enough," or something XD_

_Anyhoo, please enjoy!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Phineas and Ferb._

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><p>CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE:<p>

Unswerving

**ISABELLA**

Phineas and Ferb were the two sweetest boys in the entire universe. My party was perfect. Absolutely, stunningly perfect—that is, until I got saddled by my mother into spending some time with my great aunt.

She was a daunting creature, standing a mighty four and a half feet tall, but what she lacked in height, she made up for in girth and meanness.

I got the entire speech from my mom: how my aunt came so far, all the way from the Northern Tri-State Area, how she traveled despite her bad hip, how she was ninety-four, and that I should love her while I still had her, et cetera.

What my mother left out was how foul-tempered she could be, how degrading she was towards me, how her abrupt, cranky attitude sucked the life from the room.

Hm. Maybe Mama was trying to get back at me for Adyson's comments earlier. I mean, I thought they were funny, but my mom's sense of humor was… less humorous by far.

"What is this, Isa? It looks familiar." My aunt gestured to my neck as I led her through the party. My fingers drifted up to the to the necklace hanging around my throat.

"It was Mama's birthday present to me. It used to belong to Grandma. Sapphire was her birthstone, remember?"

She nodded, then droned, "you're too thin, girl. Your abuela was a big girl. A big, strong girl. You need to eat more."

"Yes, Tia," I replied, pulling her towards the back door.

"All the girls today are tiny—no! The big girls, those are the prettiest. You need some of Tia's gorditas y champurrado."

"Of course, Tia."

We stopped just inside, since my aunt said she didn't like the weather outside, but I wasn't complaining. Introducing her to my friends from a distance was the easiest thing, anyway.

"See that boy, the one with the red hair?" I pointed towards my group of friends. "That's my best friend, Phineas. And the little Indian boy next to him? That's my genius friend, Baljeet."

I went from friend to friend in the yard, pointing out my troop, my best girlfriend, my boys—well, except for the one I was looking for the most, who wasn't with the others. But my mom said I had to introduce my aunt to my friends and let her know I appreciated her being here before I was free to move on to other things; the sooner I got this over with, the sooner I could go find said missing boy.

"Is that all, Isa?" she asked, rubbing at her hip with her spare hand.

"Not quite all, but all that I could find right now. Why don't we find somewhere for you to sit down?"

She nodded. I turned around, and almost ran right into a tall form. I jumped, but looked up to meet very familiar blue eyes.

"Hey," Ferb breathed, smiling at me—a gesture I was all too eager to return. Well… that was an easy find.

My aunt shuffled around. "Is that all, Isa?" she groused, apparently forgetting she just asked me that question a few seconds ago.

"Oh! No, Tia." I took her arm, stepping aside so she was facing the boy I'd just bumped into.

"Who are you?" she growled, and her tone made it sound like she were angry with him for being so tall and making her crane her neck to look up at him.

"Tia, this is my—" Friend? Best friend? Semi-boyfriend-but-not-boyfriend? Everything? Panic! "Ferb."

Oops. That was awkward.

My aunt eyed him suspiciously before looking back to me. "_Your _Ferb?"

"No! I mean, not _no_—well, not _my _Ferb, but—no, I didn't mean—"

"Ferb Fletcher," he stated coolly, coming to my rescue as he held his hand out to my great aunt. There was a present under his arm, but before I could inquire about it, my aunt spoke.

"You don't have any piercings, do you?" she demanded, pushing her glasses a little further up her nose to study him.

"Tia!" I couldn't believe she'd really just asked that, but Ferb only chuckled politely, letting his hand drop.

"None that I'm aware of, ma'am."

"You don't wear your pants sagging down around your ankles?"

"I'd prefer not."

"Tattoos or motorcycles?"

"No on the former, but I'm afraid it's a yes with regards to the latter."

My impression with his patience was halted at the last of his words. I gaped at him. He… didn't own a motorcycle. He raised his eyebrow my expression, an amused smile spreading across his face.

"My grandfather liked to work on them when he was younger, and gave me one of his old ones. So yes, I own a motorbike, but it's back in Britain."

Huh. I—huh. Ferb owned a motorcycle? He actually owned a motorcycle—or _motorbike,_ in his fancy-pants British accent. That was such a _bad boy_ thing. I'd fallen for a bad boy. That was an incredibly bizarre concept. Ferb was such a gentleman.

"Don't you ever take my little Isa on one of those damn machines," she huffed in response.

"Please, Tia," I groaned, "don't start up on stuff like that."

"Isa, I don't ever want you riding one of—"

"Ay que… Calla, porfa, Tia. Why would I ever be in Britain anyway?"

"Well…" Ferb began under his breath, a smirk appearing on his face. I stared at him. He seemed to be silently daring me to ask where he was intending to go with that, but I didn't need to. I knew perfectly well what he was implying, and it made my cheeks flush fiercely.

I gave him a very pointed look: _in front of my grandma?_ Well, not my _grandma_, per se, but close enough.

His smirk grew to encompass his whole mouth, his expression clearly saying, _of course. Anything to see you turn that red. I just love torturing you._

So maybe the last part was my own personal add-on to his meaning, but it was definitely true!

"Anyway," I drew out awkwardly, thankful for the fact that my aunt wouldn't understand any of our silent communication, "Ferb was one of the two boys I was telling you about last time I visited. Do you remember?"

She waved off my question grumpily. "Isa, get me some water. Letting your poor, tired tia abuela go without water! It's no way to treat your elders."

"I wouldn't mind…" Ferb offered, gesturing towards the area where drinks were held, but my stubborn aunt waved him down, too.

"Isa is my little one; she will go. Vaya, child. Quickly."

I raised my hands in a, _okay, okay, _gesture, then turned to Ferb with an apologetic smile on my face.

"Want to come with me?" I was longing for him to say yes, and the gleam in his eye told me I wouldn't be disappointed—at least until my aunt interfered.

"Damn kids can't do anything for themselves. Isa, you can get me el agua without any help. Your little friend here can make sure this old woman is alright until you return."

She swatted me in the butt in the most degrading and humiliating of ways, but I'd learned long ago to bite my tongue when it came to my aunt. Every time I'd complain, my mom reminded me that my tia abuela wouldn't be around all that much longer, and that I should appreciate the time we had. It didn't make it much easier, though.

I shot Ferb one more glance to silently apologize before making my way through the crowd to one of the tables with drinks. Finding a water wasn't exactly a difficult task, but constantly having to stop and politely greet people or thank them for coming made the trek last about ten times longer than it should have.

I felt so bad for Ferb.

When I finally made it back, I found all the humor drained from his face. His expression now was completely serious. All I heard upon my arrival was his stern, "no."

Oh boy… what had she said to him? I could tell it hadn't been pleasant.

"Here," I turned to my aunt, holding out the water for her. She took it.

"You should eat something, Isa. You're too thin. A girl your age… we made them with more curves back in my day, and they were far more beautiful. None of this tiny—"

"Okay, Tia, I'll go eat something," I forced out as pleasantly as possible. I was running out of patience, as this was the ninth time tonight she ragged on my figure.

Thankfully she nodded like this pleased her. As quickly as I could manage, I kissed her cheek, muttering a goodbye before I reached for Ferb's hand and pulled him along.

"Not even a thank you?" Ferb scorned, shaking his head as we weaved through the crowd. "Is she always so debasing towards you?"

"Oh, she was downright pleasant tonight compared to most our visits," I laughed. "That thin comment was the closest thing to a thank you that I'd ever heard from her."

I didn't actually want any food just yet, so we ended up wandering around aimlessly. We were currently in my living room, under what was practically a dream catcher of different fire streamers.

"So how was she when I was gone?"

Even though he smiled, his face darkened. He shook his head.

Oh no.

"You have to tell me what she said!" I tugged on his arm. "You _have _to! Please?"

He eyed me doubtfully for a few seconds, but he must have seen I wouldn't let this go. Finally, he sighed in defeat.

"She told me a very gruesome story regarding what her father used to do to those he didn't like back when she was a little girl in Mexico. Then she proceeded to explain how she was a master of every tactic he had to make a person suffer."

The only thing I knew about my great, great grampapa was that he was a shoot-first-ask-questions-later kind of man. For my aunt to start talking to _Ferb_ about…

"Was she—was she actually _threatening you?_" I couldn't contain my horror.

"Oh, most definitely," he replied, though his demeanor remained as filled with that calm composure as ever.

I stopped in my tracks, grabbing onto his arm and demanding he stop, too. I gave him a look that unmistakably ordered him to elaborate before I lost it. He chuckled under his breath.

"Don't worry, love. She only said those things from her story would happen to me under a very specific condition. Something that I would never let happen."

"But what—"

He pressed his finger to my lips, and once my words were halted, he winked at me. _Damn genius._ His eyes were smoldering, and I suddenly couldn't bring myself to think anymore, let alone question. I knew it must have been part of his devious plot—the one where he liked to torture me, from before.

"I have a birthday present for you."

He held up a box maybe a foot by a foot with shiny white wrapping paper and a pink bow that looked just like the one I used to wear on my head when I was little. I'd seen him carrying it before, but I just assumed he had nabbed it from a guest and simply hadn't placed it on the present table yet. It never even occurred to me it could have been from him.

"But… this party was my present from you boys." I shook my head slowly, giving him my best, _you shouldn't have,_ glare. "My party is always what you guys get me."

"Maybe I'm just trying to push you out of your comfort zone," he quipped.

"But I like my comfort zone," I muttered childishly, just to antagonize him.

"Well, it will be good for you to let go of some of those control issues to which you cling so desperately. Embrace a little change, Miss Garcia-Shapiro. I hear it's good for you."

"I don't have control issues!" I shot back, but no one was convinced. He smirked and held the box out to me. I took it.

"Sure you don't. Although, with this, I might just be enabling you."

I reckoned I'd have to open the present to figure that one out. But hey, this was actually perfect. It was a wonderful excuse to be alone, tied up with a nice little bow on top. Why not take advantage of the opportunity?

"Okay," I said slowly. "Shall we…" I gestured toward the front of the house, indicating we go somewhere more private. He gestured elaborately with his arms.

"We shall."

Ferb and I slipped upstairs—the only place where I could open his present in a more personal setting. The entire way I was weighing and shaking the box, feeling it rattle around… a lot. Guessing presents was my favorite thing, and I was wicked good at it, but what would Ferb get me that shifted so much? What had that many small parts? And it was surprisingly heavy.

"What is it?" I laughed as we walked into my room. "A book and some rocks?"

Ferb hesitated with his fingers still on the door handle, just after he closed the door. I couldn't see his face, but he sighed, "why do you always insist on guessing?"

"Must be all those control issues," I replied snarkily, plopping down on the edge of my bed.

"Must be," he chuckled.

I waited to open it until he sat down next to me. Then I promptly untied the ribbon, ripped through the wrapping paper, and opened the box to find…

"A book… and some rocks," I stated dryly. I couldn't believe what I was looking at. Yes, I was certain it was a large book—or maybe a notebook—with a bunch of pebbles on top.

"You're usually so good at guessing that I was trying to throw you off," he laughed, plucking up one of the small stones. "Obviously it didn't work. Though it's not exactly a book."

I brushed the rocks to the side of the box and pulled out not one, but four purple notebooks. They were as big as spirals could get, and had cloth running down the spine, covering the metal wiring.

"See? No need to freak out about the present. It's not much." He took one of the notebooks from me, turning it over in his hands. "I remember reading some of your writing when you lived here those couple of weeks, and noticed—"

"_You read some of my writing?_" I gasped, on my feet now.

"I noticed your notebooks were nearly full," he continued as if my incredulity didn't exist.

"I can't believe you read my—"

"And I thought it was brilliant." He pulled me back down on the bed. "The one with the swing set… your rain motif was carried out amazingly."

I blinked at him. "You… liked it?"

"I think you're very talented, yes." He nodded to the notebooks in my lap. "Which is why I saw those and thought they were perfect. I know you hate your other spiral notebooks, because you're OCD enough to mind when the metal bends out of place. But I also know you put up with them because you hate that you can't tear pages out of composition books, and you're afraid of making a mistake. Well… problem solved."

I ran my finger down the covered metal binding, then stared at him in surprise. I had no idea how to respond to something so simple, yet so meaningful. The thoughtfulness… it couldn't be captured in words.

In the end, as much as it was _not_ enough, I found myself making a joke.

"You know, this feels more like a mental analysis than a present."

"Well, they do say writers are amongst the most insane people in the world. Just be happy I somehow love your particular brand of crazy."

I threw my arms around his neck. I'd never had someone support my writing aspirations before, and this… it was just too perfect for words. And he _loved _my crazy. I'd look at that as a compliment.

"Thank you," I exhaled, feeling his arms around me too.

Damn, this was addictive. It was so hard, knowing we shouldn't do this yet. But a hug was innocent enough.

And what harm could come from shifting so we were sitting up against my headboard, cuddled up together? From letting his arm wrap around me, and nuzzling in to his shoulder? From holding his hand? They were harmless… One best friend could do it with another, regardless of whether they felt something for each other.

We stayed in that position for a while, both simply listening to each other's breathing and wondering at all the things it took to get there. It definitely was funny—how life played out. Here I was, in Ferb's arms, and I couldn't think of anywhere I'd rather be.

"I seriously think you're just about the coolest person on the planet," I spoke into the silence.

"On the planet, you say?" he chuckled. "What, does Meap have me beat or something?"

"Wow. _Someone's _awfully picky tonight…" I mused, rolling my eyes despite the fact he couldn't see it. As it was, though, I couldn't keep myself from snuggling even closer into the crux of his shoulder. "Feeling a little threatened, Fletcher?"

"Hey, it's not my fault you misspoke. 'The planet' isn't saying much given my brother and I's track record."

I felt him tense up at his mention of Phineas. Ferb was so sweet sometimes it wasn't even fair. He was probably guilt-tripping himself now for being here with me.

"If it makes you feel better…" I soothed, spreading my fingers across his chest, "I think you're cooler than Meap."

"Oh yes," he muttered sarcastically. "Yes, that is such a comfort."

"I think you're cuter than Meap, too. That has to say something, right?"

"_Cuter_," he purred under his breath, shaking his head back and forth slowly. I could hear the smile in his voice. "Tell me something, Bella; are you trying to take my man card?"

I burst out laughing. "Okay, smartass. You obviously are having some issues with my descriptors right now. If I'm so bad, what word would _you_ use to describe yourself, hm?"

"Isn't it obvious?" he smirked. "I'm _dashing._"

"Dashing."

"Of course."

That hung in the air for our amusement. I wanted to laugh at his overall demeanor right now, but in the end all I could say was, "I'm not going to disagree."

We fell back into silence after that. I hoped with all the chaos of the party and the throng of people, no one would notice our absence for a few minutes—well maybe a little more than a _few_. I wasn't prepared for this to be over yet.

I'd like to think that he didn't want to move either, so I figured this would be a great time to reintroduce a topic from earlier.

"So are you going to ever tell me why my crazy, old aunt threatened to kill you?"

"Well, to be honest, _kill me_ would probably have been a compassion, given the things she said she could do with a pistol, a box of matches, and a farmer's rusty mortar hoe."

I tensed, pulling my head up to stare at him in shock and alarm. "She said—oh my god, Ferb, I'm so sorry!" My mind was reeling, my throat clotting with emotion. "She's always been kind of nasty to people, but I never thought she'd… oh god, I can't even believe…"

I buried my face in his chest, completely revolted and almost nauseated by my aunt's words. Her intent to… to threaten—

I realized that Ferb's chest was shaking underneath me. Next, I registered the fact that my best friend actually had the gall to _laugh_ right now. I pulled back again, staring at him as frustration boiled up inside of me.

"Why the hell are you—"

"Are you about to _cry?_"

"No!" I lied.

"You are," he mused, a small smirk tracing his lips. "You actually are."

"This isn't funny!"

As if he found that outburst funny, his laugh strengthened. I wanted to punch him… which I suppose was counter-intuitive, given the premise for my being upset in the first place. But it wasn't funny at all!

"Ferbian Reginald Fletcher, I swear, if you don't—"

His lips found mine before I could fling one more angry word at him. All of my ire and anxiety melted in one second—but it was only one second. He pulled back as quickly as he'd come. His face adopted a smile, but there was something almost… smug in it. I blinked at him in surprise.

"She only said she'd do those things if I ever broke your heart. But like I said… I'm not concerned. It's something I would never let it happen."

Oh. She… _what?_

"I know," he let out a puff of air. "We're apparently not very discreet. Not with the way you introduce me, at least." He eyed me impishly, but I couldn't bring myself to be bothered by his teasing. I could only stare, speechless.

My aunt had... but Ferb and I—was it obvious something was going on? I didn't think so; I couldn't even begin to tell you how many times I got asked tonight why Phineas and I didn't work out. But still… it made me curious how many people saw me traipsing around with Ferb through the party and began to… wonder.

"You… kind of just broke the rules," I muttered lamely, my fingers drifting up to my lips.

"I know," he sighed, lying back again. "But I won't turn myself in if you won't."

I smiled. I most definitely wouldn't. Besides, it was just a peck, really. And no one saw it. We could return to the friendzone without any complications.

"Plus, after what you said in the back yard a few days ago, it was the only way I knew to get you to stop thinking."

I blushed, but didn't let the comment get to me. The effect he had on me was the effect he had on me; I wouldn't stoop so low as to try to deny it anymore. I lied back down, and we fell into silence again.

Time flowed on. I wondered how long we'd been up here, but I didn't want to face the answer yet. As if he were thinking the same thing, Ferb let out a deep sigh. It felt a little odd since I was lying on his chest again, but I liked it. I liked the constant thrumming of his life under my cheek.

"We probably have to go back down before there are any suspicious murmurings or hurt feelings," he advised, and I wordlessly nodded.

Just because I nodded didn't mean I agreed, though. I didn't want to move right now. But he was right. He was always right. We had to spend time with Phineas. We had to be responsible.

I pulled my head up and twisted my body around so I could face him. I let my lips fall into a pout.

"I don't want to either, love," he chuckled, and something in his voice stilled my movement. My traitorous fingers worked their way into the fabric of his shirt just a little more securely, and his arm tightened around me.

This didn't bode well in the name of responsibility.

Oh, this was unbearable. I needed a slap of common sense, and I needed it right now, or the party be damned…

"We… we shouldn't do this, right?" I breathed.

"It would be best if we didn't," he agreed, his hand moving up through my hair. I shuddered under his touch, my eyes fluttering closed for just a second too long.

"And… and there are reasons—perfectly sound, pragmatic, and plentiful reasons—why we can't do this right now, right?"

I met his eyes. They were the best shade of blue, like the flames at the very base of a fire. That had always been my favorite part—that blue at the bottom. I couldn't believe I'd never made that connection before.

Ferb kissed me anyway. Or had I kissed him? Honestly, I couldn't even say who'd initiated, but that didn't matter now.

I realized very quickly that this was completely new territory for us. It was slow, but not hesitant like the night of Candace's engagement. It was explorative, but without the bumbling of the night on his bed. It was passionate, but not the crazy frenzy of when we were in the closet. I could get used to kissing him like this.

I caught his bottom lip between mine as his arms pulled me up, pulled me closer. My hands slid from his chest and up to his face, cupping his cheeks. It was one of those deep, unhurried kisses—the kind that spoke a million different things, but without a single word. The kind that melted all our edges until the lines between us were blurred, and mixed, and almost inseparable.

We made the most of this moment, knowing it would end far too quickly.

"Happy birthday, Isabella," he hummed.

He was able to say too soon for my liking, but I figured I should be thankful for what I got. A giant party with him by my side, miles of banter and wit, some time alone, and that kiss... Even with our self-imposed 'Phineas Restrictions' and my crazy aunt, I wasn't sure how this night would ever be topped.

I wanted to tell him I loved him. Right now. It was moments like these where I fell for him all over again. It was definitely fitting. But I also knew doing so was still inappropriate. Phineas was downstairs at the party he'd worked so hard on, and he deserved to have his two best friends with him. Another time would come.

We stood, and I straightened out my dress before making my way towards the door. I reached out to open it, but stopped so abruptly Ferb ran into me.

"Something wrong?" he questioned, though he made no effort to take a step back. I felt his hands on my waist, and I twirled around between them to face him.

"Your hoodie," I replied. "Your hoodie, I think it's in my closet. I kept forgetting to give it back to you, so… so I should probably grab it now."

I looked up at him, silently telling him that I could never do that while he held me, but he made no move to let me go. His eyes were piercing.

"I washed it since you lent it to me, because I was all chlorine-y," I began to ramble. "Although, I'd… I'd be lying if I said I hadn't worn it since. I mean, you know how chilly my house can get. So I hope you don't mind—I mean, I could wash it again, if need be, or—"

"I think it's alright if you keep it for a little while," he whispered, resting his forehead against mine.

"Or… that," I smiled.

We kept getting ourselves into these situations, these moments when we were so close that it was painful we weren't closer.

"Once we walk out that door, this is over," I sighed, my fingers ghosting along his cheek.

"I know." He pressed his lips to mine. "We're almost there." And again. "But not yet."

He kissed me a third time, this one longer than the other two, but we were eventually pulled from my room by our decency, reminding us that we had people we had to be there for.

We left in search for Phineas. And, in the long run, it was what was best for Ferb and I, too. If we were going to work out, we'd have to go into it with Phineas completely healed. The only way for that to happen was to be around him, unswervingly ourselves.

That was the only answer. It was a frustrating answer—but, given how complicated everything had been for a while, it was an answer I was thankful for.

I raced Ferb to the backyard.

* * *

><p><em>RR please!_

_One more chapter to go! And it's pretty much already written. I'll post it either tomorrow or the day after, so long as you guys still review and let me know what you think of this chapter!_

_Oh! And it was a running joke in the show; "What is _Ferb_ short for?" Well, I had fun taking advantage of my fanfic creative freedom, and came up with one. Reginald is the name of his grandfather, if anyone was wondering where that came from.__  
><em>

_Thanks for all your support, you wonderful fans, you! You are fabulous!_

_~Lilly-Belle_


	52. Epilogue: Enough

_Okay, everybody… I want to leave the end in all of its finality, so my final AN will be up here. To all those who have stuck with this story, thank you so much! You made my first fan fiction experience such a positive one! _

_Thank you to all my reviewers! I cannot tell you how many times you made me smile! Especially Enula and HeroXLink; you two provided a lot of inspiration when this monster wanted to kick my butt—Enula for the long-haul, and HeroXLink recently, when my computer was being a jerk._

_Now that my story is over, I'd love to hear from all those favs/follows who have never commented before! Review, PM me, whatever floats your boat! Even if you read all of this long after it was over, I'd still love to see a review, and know what you guys thought!_

_I can assure you… you haven't seen the last of me. If you enjoy my PnF stories, buckle up! I'm currently in the works for something that will blow Enough clear out of the water—though it is such a massive undertaking that some time will be required. But I promise you… it's going to be big! I'm so excited about it._

_As for the __epilogue… I steered away from having the same perspective twice in a row, but it worked out that way since I cut some chapters. Also, this is rated T, and I tried to maintain that rating, but this is a little more suggestive than some of my previous chapters. Regardless, (*tear… this is my last time saying this for Enough*) I hope you guys enjoy!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Phineas and Ferb._

* * *

><p>EPILOGUE:<p>

Enough

**ISABELLA**

I picked at the old sleeves of my Union Jack hoodie, eyeing my computer with despair. The email sat, unopened. It was taunting me. And how I desperately wanted to open it, but… boy, did I not want to open it!

With a flick of my fingers across the track pad, I minimized the window. I was met with the two smiling faces of one of my screensaver pictures—Ferb and I grinning in front of his grandpa's old garage. I eyed it for a few seconds before falling forward, resting my forehead against the edge of the table.

"God, Isabella, how will you ever survive in this business if you're too scared to open a frickin' email?" I groaned. I took a couple breaths before sitting up again and running my hands through my hair.

Another image faded onto my screen now: me laughing hysterically on Ferb's back, his expression as calm as ever—just that smirk I'd always loved and his _I'm amused _eyes. He'd been giving me a piggyback ride at our college's orientation, but we'd stopped with our antics just long enough for this photo to be taken. It was my favorite.

Seeing it filled me with enough cheerfulness that I opened the window up again. I clicked on the email, and braced myself for the worst. An address. Followed by a… congratulations? Oh my god…

No way.

I was going to be published! I was actually going to be _published! _Printed, bound, and shipped all over the world!

I bolted up from my chair, doing a dance around the kitchen table that made me happy I was the only one in the apartment right now; this amount of gleeful prancing would have been an embarrassment for someone to see from a woman of my age.

Then I heard keys in the door. I hastily threw myself back in my chair; none would be the wiser.

"Hey," Ferb called, and I heard him dump all his bags by the door. "You home?"

"Yeah," I responded, flipping my screen back to the screensaver. Wouldn't want to ruin the surprise.

Four faces grinned back at me this time. It was a picture taken at Candace's wedding, with the bride, Phineas, Ferb, and I posing like ridiculous secret agents. It was hard to believe that was four years ago.

Ferb entered the kitchen, and it dawned on me that my desktop was just as suspicious as my email, so I quickly changed the screen over to the story I'd been working on. Oh, I couldn't wait to tell him!

"What happened in here?" he laughed, his eyes roaming the near-hidden tabletop. He looked completely taken aback by what he saw. I looked over to what he was referring to, but I didn't think the scattered papers should have come as a surprise.

"It's the end of the month," I stated slowly. "Same time the bills always—"

"Oh, I totally spaced," he sighed, his hand flying to his forehead. "I can't believe—I'm so sorry."

"It's alright," I smiled. "I figured as much. I even got a head start for you, so you're all set up." I nodded my head toward the open stack of envelopes on the table next to me. We alternated months taking care of the paperwork. It kept the depression of paying bills from becoming too heavy.

He yawned, coming to stand next to me instead of acknowledging the work waiting for him. He leaned down onto my chair, looking at my screen over my shoulder.

"How's it coming along?"

"It's finished," I said triumphantly, turning so I could see his face. His eyebrows rose, but a smile spread across his lips.

"Really?"

"Yup."

"How long…?"

"Just short of 600 pages, and it's only book one."

He whistled, but kissed the top of my head. "You're crazy, love. Next step is finding a publisher, right?"

"Actually… I finished this last week, and worked a couple of my old Fireside Girl connections. I got the email this morning; I've already found a publisher who loved it."

He blinked at me.

"In… in _one week_, you…?"

I nodded, beaming at him.

"Oh my gosh, Bella, that's amazing!" He picked me up from the chair, spinning me around in a hug, and I couldn't help but giggle.

"Well… he loved _most_ of it. He said change the title, and I'm golden. It'll be shipping worldwide."

"Change the title? What was it before?"

"Well, I couldn't think of anything, but I needed to save the file, so I just ended up calling it _Enough._"

"_Enough?_" he laughed. "Yes, that's a pretty sad title."

"Oh thanks," I muttered dryly. "It was all I could come up with!"

"_Enough. _Really, you couldn't think of anything better?"

"Oh stop," I growled, but gave him a quick peck on the lips anyway. "Don't you have work to do?"

I tilted my head towards the papers again, which he glanced back at distastefully. With a sigh, he disengaged from me, reluctantly crossing over and leaning above the stack. I could see in the set of his shoulders how drained he was right now. He'd had a few too many late nights working on projects for one of his classes this week.

I tittered dramatically, rolling my eyes.

"Go!" I exclaimed, and his head shot up.

He didn't need to ask, but he did anyway; "what?"

"Go lie down. I've got you this month." I gave him one of my stern faces, and he got the message: don't argue.

"Have I mentioned how much I love you?"

"Today?" I laughed, stepping over to the table and pulling out the chair. "Only a few times."

"Aw, don't say it like that," he called, making his way to the couch. "You make it sound insincere."

"Don't worry, Fletcher, I'm perfectly aware that 'insincere' isn't in your dictionary. You prefer words like… sesquipedalian, or… what was that one you used the other day? Floxa? Flaxipation?"

"Floccinaucinihilipilification."

I smirked. "That's it."

I dug into the pile of paperwork, but after a minute, Ferb spoke again.

"So what are you going to rename it?"

"I don't know," I yawned; I'd been pulling some late nights too, pattering away on my keys, but it had been a far less intensive schedule than his. "I'm thinking that one will just have to be a problem for tomorrow."

"Carpe diem."

"Oh hush," I called back, and heard him chuckle. "Speaking of carpe diem, when did you say Phineas was coming? And Candace, for that matter?"

"Candace and Amanda are coming up Tuesday because that class of mine got cancelled." Oh, yay! I'd always had a way with kids, and Amanda was the cutest little four-year-old in the world. "Phineas is next weekend. He said he has a surprise."

"Oh no," I laughed. "We just finished cleaning this place up from the last Flynnvention he showed us. Can't he test his mock-up products at Candace's?"

Even though I complained, I didn't actually mind. Whenever Phin came over, it felt like we were all kids again. Probably because he was living the life of a big kid anyway, creating and playing, but he always got things done in the end. Some things had never changed.

"What do you want me to make for dinner those nights?" he asked, and I took a moment to once again celebrate the fact that I'd managed to find a man who knew how to cook. It was glorious.

"Whatever you want; I trust your judgment." It was the answer he always got when he asked that question. I still wondered why he persisted to bother asking it, really. Then something dawned on me. "Actually, I would serve something with chicken when Candace is here."

"Why chicken?"

"Well, I think your sister may be pregnant again. You know how much she craved chicken with Amanda."

I heard a yawn from the other room, followed by a drawn out, "Really? Pregnant? Did she say something?"

"No, but I think it's true. She had that… glow about her. I'd bet she'll reveal it at dinner Thursday."

"Tuesday," he corrected.

"Right." I waved my hand in acknowledgement before emptying the contents of the third envelope. Damn, this job was tedious. The second I whined about it, though, Ferb would be up trying to take the task back from me. "So you said Phin's found someone to cover your work while you're handling these project weeks, right?"

"Well, he had to amass an entire team to cover what I would usually do, but yes," Ferb replied oh so casually.

"Does it feel good to say that?" I teased. "Is your ego properly stroked?"

"Hey, I can't help the facts. They're there, in all of their veracity."

Him and those words of his…

"Veracity, Ferb? Really?"

"Well I could have used verisimilitude, but that seemed like too much."

I couldn't keep myself from smiling. In fact, I couldn't keep myself from crossing over to where he was lounged across the couch.

"Careful, babe," I purred, and his eyes snapped open, surprised to see me leaning over him. He sat up, but I put my hands on his shoulders, keeping him from standing. Instead, I came to him, crawling onto his lap and bringing my lips against his.

His arms wrapped around my torso, his hands already under my hoodie and gliding along my back. I let my fingers sprawl up the back of his neck, drawing my nails along his scalp in just the way I knew drove him crazy.

I pulled back, biting my lip coyly. "You know how I get when you start talking like that."

"I'd say we're pretty even." He brushed a few strands of hair behind my ear. "Given how you look at me, I might not be able to control myself, either."

"Aw, but I thought you were tired."

In answer, he brought his lips to my neck, kissing from my collarbone up to my jaw. When he made it up to my ear, he murmured, "please, love, I'm never _that_ tired."

I laughed as he began kissing farther back, shutting my eyes when he found that one spot I always liked.

"Besides," he hummed against my skin, giving me chills, "don't you have some bills to pay? They're due tomorrow."

"Oh, tossing _your_ work in my face, huh? How is that fair?" But even so, I couldn't keep myself from kissing him again. His hands fell to my hips, his fingers ghosting along the inside of the waistband.

"You know," I breathed, arching into him, "there's plenty of time to finish the bills later. I mean… if you help me."

He smirked deviously, pulling me back to him and kissing me with a new intensity. This was a whole different level now, and I could already feel myself getting overwhelmed as a giddy feeling swept through my body.

Without warning, he stood, and I let out a little squeal. I should've known he wouldn't drop me, but I had no idea how he managed to do that without letting my legs fall from around his waist. He took my moment of surprise as an opportunity to further explore my mouth, and everything became _him_.

He carried me to our bedroom, kicking the door closed behind him without letting our lips part for even a second. He was skilled like that. Although… we'd also had a lot of practice. That didn't hurt.

We fell back on the bed, and tops were gone within seconds. He stood up, unbuckling his belt. I just lied back and watched him; I'd let him take care of my bra and shorts when he got around to them. He removed his wallet and phone from his pocket, tossing them on our nightstand. He patted his other pocket, then froze. His face drained of color.

"Babe?" I huffed, frustrated by his distance.

He gulped, patting at all of his pockets again.

Oh. Right…

"If you're worried about what I think you're worried about, don't bother. You left it in your pocket yesterday, but I caught it before it went in the wash." He stared at me, and I smiled. "Top drawer, where you keep all your other secret things."

He watched me. He blinked. Then he crossed over to our dresser. He opened his sock drawer, shifting to the back. Really, his 'secret things' weren't all that secretive. A wrench that had belonged to his grandpa, an old photo of his biological mother, a few coins from the countries we'd visited the semester we took off together, and the like.

Although, what he was looking for now… I do suppose that _was_ supposed to stay secret—from me, at least.

He pulled out the small, black box.

"I left it in my pants yesterday?"

"And I saved it from the evil laundry machine," I reiterated, gesturing across the room at a laundry basket full of the folded clothing I'd managed to fit in my schedule today.

He shook his head, probably unable to believe his own carelessness. "Did you look inside?"

"No," I laughed. "I wouldn't do that to you."

He nodded, putting it back where he'd found it.

"Looks like you weren't as oblivious to my hints as I thought you were, huh?" I teased, watching him shut the drawer resolutely.

"Heavens, no," he laughed too, turning to face me again. "I'm not Phineas."

I crawled to the edge of the bed, pulling him back to me. "No, you're not." I kissed him again, but it wasn't too long before I stopped to breathe, "you better finish taking your pants off. I wasn't finished with you."

He obliged, and shortly after was climbing over me wearing nothing but his boxers. He was kissing me again, and I could only think, _about time._ I had been going crazy without him against me. His hands traced down my sides as he shifted his lips down my jaw and to my neck. His fingers played with the fabric at my waist. I was aching for it to be gone.

He started to tug it down, only to stop.

"You know… now that I know you know, I'm going to drive you absolutely crazy," he spoke into my ear, and my eyes snapped open. I let go of the breath I'd been holding at his touch, and he pulled back enough so I could look into his eyes, hovering tantalizingly too far above my own.

"What?"

"I'm going to go out of my way to make sure you never know when it's coming. There'll be a big, fancy dinner, and it'll be to tell you there was a paper jam at work. I'll create some teleportation hovercraft and fly you over Paris, and it'll be to tell you I got an A on one of my projects."

I gaped at him. "You wouldn't…"

"You found out about the ring, love. The least I can do is make sure you're surprised when you see it."

"That… is so evil," I gasped. He smiled down at me, his hand moving to trace my collarbone up around my shoulder. My eyes closed of their own will, and my breath caught. "Oh, you are _so_ lucky I want you right now, or we'd have words. Serious words."

"And here I thought you liked my words. I thought you liked when I became loquacious. Or was I—"

I pulled his lips to mine again, and this time I wouldn't let him escape. He didn't seem to mind, though. Not in the slightest.

For perhaps the thousandth time, I marveled at how life worked out. It was twisting, and twirling, and derailing of even the most carefully placed plans. Blueprints that jumped off a page and invented themselves into something new.

There'd been so many complications and conflicts. Bills that were due. Student loans, and future jobs, and rainy days. Tears and angry explosions. Pregnancy scares, and break-ins, and fights that were temptations to give up.

But there were also countless impossibilities. Unyielding wonder. A life built on improbability, but where one thing never changed—we had each other.

In the end, that would always be enough.

* * *

><p><em>Love, Lilly-Belle<em>


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